


Moments

by BigJellyMonster (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Angst, Blood, Death, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Obsession, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Obsessive Voldemort, Some mentions of violence, dream - Freeform, updated tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 23,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/BigJellyMonster
Summary: A 30 day challenge centered around the idea that Harry is communicating with Tom Riddle through his dreams unable to recall that he will grow up to be a Dark Lord.Lord Voldemort is using these dreams to get as much information out of Harry as he possible can, and is unable to stop his obsession with Harry Potter form developing further.





	1. Day One, Meeting: The first time your OTP met

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings and tags will be updated as things progress.

It wasn’t the first time, but it was definitely the most memorable. He didn’t even realize that it was Tom Riddle at first. The last time he had seen him as a teenager, he had been fighting for his life against a basilisk. He wasn’t able to appreciate how handsome he was then, he had to save his best friends sister after all.

It was after his third lesson with Dumbledore that he finally had a dream about him. He thought it was normal that Tom was sitting with him in the common room at first. Tom was wearing his Slytherin robes and sitting next to him by the fire. 

To Harry, in his dream altered reality, the situation seemed normal. Harry was sure he was reading a book about new tricks he could perform on his broom, and Tom was writing in his diary. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt completely relaxed. 

“Do you normally dream about me?” Tom asked him.

“Sometimes, but you are usually killing someone,” Harry answered honestly without looking up from his book. He was sure that he was reading about a physically impossible flip he could do on his broom to help him find the snitch faster.“I’m usually watching through your eyes while you do it, too.” 

“My eyes?” Tom put his diary down and observed Harry. “Why is that?”

He was sure that he shouldn’t tell him, but this was just a dream wasn’t it? What was there to worry about? “We are supposed to have some kind of connection. Dumbledore says it’s because you left a piece of yourself with me when you were a baby.”

Harry didn’t see Tom’s reaction, but if he did, he would have seen a look of surprise with a hint of fear on his face. “Is that so?” Tom’s tone gave nothing away about how he was truly feeling. 

Harry shrugged. He was still trying to figure out how to preform that particular flip on his broom. 

“And... Why aren’t you seeing through my eyes now?” Tom’s attention did not leave Harry’s face.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re not doing anything today. It doesn’t happen all of the time. Just when you are feeling a strong emotion.” The words on the page seemed to run together, making it unreadable. But, that didn’t seem to bother Harry at all.

“And... why are you seeing me as a teenager?” Tom leaned closer to Harry, so that their shoulders were touching.

“Probably because Dumbledore has been giving me lessons about your youth. You were handsome, like unbelievably handsome. What happened?” Harry turned the page and the book became blank. Still, Harry didn’t seem to care.

“My looks became useless when I finally gained the power that I wanted. It is easier to control people with fear than a handsome face.” Tom pulled the book out of Harry’s hands.

“Hey! I was reading that!” Harry protested as he tried leaning over Tom to get it back.

“No you weren’t.” Tom threw the book across the room. It’s pages turned into paper birds and flew out the window. “ Harry, why is Dumbledore trying to show you my past?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t gotten to that part yet.” Harry sighed in frustration as he sat back up. “Why do you even care?” 

“Because my past is none of your business, Harry.” Tom sneered at him. Harry still did not look at Tom. Instead, he looked longingly at the paper birds that lined up one by one and threw themselves into the fire. Frustrated at the lack of attention Harry was giving to him, Tom placed a hand on Harry’s knee.

“Why? I mean, I think if you had someone there for you, none of this would happen. That matron was a bitch. She reminds me of my aunt. I think Dumbledore was in the wrong for leaving you there in the first place. I mean he knew what was going on in the muggle world at the time, and how you were treated there, and still he did nothing. He is a professor. It’s his job to help his students and he just... _leaves_  people like us in places where clearly we aren't wanted.”  Harry ranted. 

“Are you feeling pity for me, Harry?” Tom’s face grew closer to Harry’s. “I’m touched.”

“Less pity, more understanding. Dumbledore may have done a lot of great things, but he has failed too many times where it counts.” Harry scoffed. “I don’t even understand the point he is trying to get at, showing me all these memories of you. What does he except to happen? He kept trying to show the differences between us, but all i’m seeing is the similarities. If he wants me to outright kill you, he is making it more and more difficult for me.”

“Is he now?” Tom questioned leaning in closer. “and... what are these similarities?”

“I...” Harry seemed to have just noticed how close Tom was getting to him, and the hand on his knee. “I... um... What are you doing?” 

“The similarities, Harry. What have you noticed?” Tom tried again. 

“I... I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming.” Harry tried to pull away, but found that he couldn’t. Tom, or maybe even the dream itself was preventing him. “This is a dream.”

“Are you sure, Harry?” Tom said with a hint of disappointment. “Because that would be a shame if this where _just_  a dream. Think of all the things we could do.”

Harry finally turned his head and looked at Tom Riddle. Instead of the natural dark eyes that Tom Riddle had, he looked into the blood red eyes of Lord Voldemort.  


	2. Day Two, Realization: The first time a member of your OTP realized they had feelings for the other.

 

Another lesson.

Harry was invested in them at first, thinking they held some secret to defeating the dark lord. But as they continued, Harry started resenting them. He just couldn’t figure out _what_ Dumbledore wanted him to learn.

At first, he thought that Dumbledore was going to teach him how to defend himself against whatever the war might throw at him, but it became apparent that it wasn’t going to happen when Dumbledore started showing him memories of Tom Riddle’s personal life.

He showed him so many memories. Some were his own, others were donated from people Harry had never met before. Sometimes, Harry was sure that those “donations” were actually stolen from people without their knowledge. Who would ever admit to once knowing a young Dark Lord? It would either cause the people around them to resent them, or paint a target on their backs.

“Do you pity Voldemort?” Dumbledore had asked him once.

“I can relate,” He had responded. Apparently, that wasn’t the answer Dumbledore wanted to hear, and Harry couldn’t figure out why. 

“It’s not how you are alike, Harry, it’s how you are not.” Dumbledore had repeated the words he once said while he was being possessed by Voldemort. 

He started obsessing over Tom Riddle in a way he usually didn’t. He couldn’t stop comparing their similarities. They both were orphans, both had horrific childhoods, they even looked similar, but unlike Harry, Tom Riddle had no one to help him through it.

What would have happened if he had someone who actually understood what he was going through? Would he be the same monster as he always was or would he have turned out more human?

A piece inside of him rejoiced at his train of thought. 

Something started to change in the way Harry usually thought of Tom Riddle. Once he saw him as nothing more than a future Dark Lord. Now he saw a teenage boy trying to survive in a world that refused to help him. Harry looked at Tom Riddle, and saw someone conquering their fear, overcoming obstacles that Harry himself thought impossible, and as someone who had obtained what Harry thought impossible.

_Freedom._

And that’s when Harry started developing feelings for the very person who destroyed his life. Harry started to admire Tom Riddle more and more than he should have. It didn’t help that Tom Riddle was _known_  for being attractive. 

He didn’t realize it, until he was watching Tom Riddle charm his way into getting whatever information he needed from Professor Slughorn. The memory fogged up, and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes on Tom Riddle’s jaw anymore and that irritated him beyond what he thought possible. 

“What happened?” Harry asked irritably.The perfect image that was Tom Riddle was something he didn’t think he would ever enjoy, but here he was now irritated because his visual connection to Tom Riddle was broken. 

At first, he was confused at his sudden anger. There was nothing in the memory that should have made him feel this way unless....

_No_

_Impossible._

But at that moment, he couldn’t help but feel  _relief_  at seeing the memory piece itself back together so he could see the other boy’s face again.

Once he understood _why_ he was so angry, he became fearful. What would happen if Voldemort ever found out he was attracted to his younger self, or that he admired the very qualities that led him to become a dark lord. 

Voldemort could try to seduce him to telling him secrets, but would he be able to resist? 

“Yes, of course,” Harry thought to himself. “There was no way that Voldemort would be able to get the upper hand on me that way. There are more important things at stake.”

“Harry, I need you to get the true memory from Professor Slughorn,” Dumbledore instructed him. “It may hold the key to defeating Voldemort.”

A piece inside of him mourned. It’s fate practically sealed. 


	3. Day Three, The Reveal: When your OTP confessed their feelings.

 

He visited him in his dreams every night now. Harry couldn’t always tell he was dreaming at first, and that’s when Voldemort would ask him anything and everything they wanted. 

“What is Dumbledore planning?”

“Who are your friends?”

“Where do you go when you are not at Hogwarts?”

Harry answered every single one of them because in his dream addled mind, Tom Riddle was his best friend and he  _always_ told him everything. Even the small details that he thought no one else cared about.

“In my cupboard, I kept all the books I had stolen from the library. I’m sure the librarian caught me a few times, but she never stopped me. Dudley would find them all eventually and burn them in the backyard just for the fun of it.” Harry had told him one night.

“In your cupboard?” Tom asked. “They kept you in a cupboard?”

“Yeah, but Dudley needed the second bedroom more than I did. I was smaller and he had to many things to fit into one room,” Harry shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Did you like having your own room at the orphanage?”

“Sometimes,” Tom answered. “Other times I think they are lucky to not have had to live in the same room as me. They might not have survived it.”

They were sitting in Tom’s family home. He could see a faint outline of the graveyard through the window, but instead of it being the dark and gloomy place Harry remembered it being, it looked like it was drawn to life out of a sketch book. The moving sketch of a rabbit scurrying beneath the headstone made the image far less frightening than in his memory.

“I don’t think I could have survived sleeping in the same room with Dudley. He would have tormented me in my sleep.” Harry watched the rabbit sniffing at the large headstone of Tom Riddle’s father.

“I think you would have done something eventually. You fight against me all the time. Getting revenge against a muggle should be easy for you.” Tom pointed out.

“Easy, yes. But I don’t think could ever actually do anything against them. Not really. I’ve done petty things before, but…” Harry trailed off. “I don’t think I could actually hurt them.”

“Harry, you’ve threatened them before. You even told me you blew up your aunt once. Simple things, yet we can improve on them.” Tom walked up behind Harry so his chest was touching his back and placed his head on Harry’s shoulder. “I could show you how to make them pay for locking you away.”

Harry tensed. “No, I think I’m okay. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Tom chuckled. “How can we be both so alike and yet so different? You constantly surprise me, Harry.” His hands wrapped around Harry’s waist. “I’m not afraid to admit that I have become obsessed with you.”

“Obsessed? Tom, don’t you think that’s a bit strong of a word?” Harry tried turning around to look at Tom, but the arms around his waist tightened so that he couldn’t move. “Hey, let go.”

“No, not yet. You’ll wake up.” Tom buried his head into the crook of Harry’s neck.

“Wake up? Tom I’m not sleeping. Stop being ridiculous. Let me go.” Harry struggled again and Tom released him momentarily, only for him to push him back against the window his lips only an inch away from Harry’s ear.. The sketch in the background smudging as though someone spilled a liquid on it.

“Never. I’ll never let you go. You have become… important to me. A treasure even. And I take special care of things I consider my treasures.” Tom whispered.

“Tom, you’re scaring me. Get off.” Harry tried to push him away.

“As you wish.” Tom sighed and moved away from Harry.

Once again, Harry saw the blood red eyes of Lord Voldemort in place of the dark color that Tom Riddle was supposed to have. When Harry jolted awake, he could still feel Tom’s breath on his ear.


	4. Day Four, First Date: Your OTP’s first date

Voldemort did not want to meet Harry’s eyes too soon. Every time he did, the boy would come to his senses and wake up before he could prevent it.

At first, he was furious that Harry was dreaming about his younger self. His first instinct was to rip into the boy’s mind and tear it apart for having any knowledge of his past. But he did not. The knowledge had proved time and time again to be of use to him.

Harry seemed to be more than taken with his past self. Every time Tom scooted closer to him, Harry would always react favorably, whether it was a blush or a smile in his direction.

The more Voldemort learned about Harry, the more obsessed he became with him. Sure, Harry knew about his past in more detail than he would like, but it wasn’t until Harry started talking to him like a friend rather than an enemy that Voldemort realized he knew _nothing_ about Harry Potter.

“I’m not _Harry Potter,_ I’m just Harry.” He once told him. “I’m sick of all the mess that comes with being _Harry Potter._ ”

 And Voldemort listened. The more he listened, the more he learned, the more he became obsessed.

“Why do you play Quidditch so much, Harry? It’s just a useless sport.” Tom had asked once.

“It’s not useless. But, I just like flying. No, I love flying. There is something about the weightlessness and the lack of walls that makes you feel so free. I don’t know I probably sound silly.” Harry explained.

“No,” Tom had said quickly. “I understand completely.” There wasn’t anyone who he knew who could probably relate more to Harry in that moment.

The obsession grew.

“I could teach you how to fly without a broom, Harry.” Voldemort always made sure to call him Harry, and Harry alone. Never again would he ever refer to him as a Potter.

“Really? You would do that?” Harry responded eagerly.

“You won’t know true freedom until you lose the broom. It’s only limiting you at this point.” Tom had smiled.

Right after that Harry had hugged him eagerly. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Harry cried. Just as Tom was about to respond, Harry looked him in the eyes, gasped and then vanished.

* * *

 

During the winter break, Ms. Weasley had put a sleeping potion in his drink without his knowledge. She thought that he was having trouble sleeping with all of the horrific news in the Daily Prophet. If she had known what Harry was going through every night, she might have considered otherwise.

The dream started off like any other. They sat together on Harry’s bed at the Burrow. Tom and Harry spoke and laughed about trivial things, and they sat too close to one another, hands almost touching.

“Do you want to learn how to fly today?” Tom asked, purposely not looking at him.

“Really?” Harry said almost childlike.

“Yes, really. Come on.” Tom lead Harry out of the dream room and instead of the door leading into the hallway, it opened up to an endless field of white and blue flowers. “It’s easy once you learn the concept.”

“I’ve never done any sort of magic like this before.” Harry confessed. He did not want to embarrass himself in front of Tom.

“You’ll be a natural, I’m sure. With your passion for flying and your ease at learning complicated magic like this, I’m sure you’ll be flying around in no time.” Tom praised.

Harry couldn’t stop the blush that took over his face, but said nothing.

Tom placed Harry facing away from him. The open field of flowers in full view. “Okay, first thing you need to do close your eyes and completely relax.” Tom instructed from behind.

“Okay.” Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The sweet smell of the flowers taking over his senses. “Now what.”

“You know that feeling you get while you are falling? Like your heart is going to fly out of your chest? Think about that. Like that very feeling is pulling you up.” Tom walked around so that he was facing Harry. “Keep your eyes closed.” Tom grabbed Harry’s hands in his. “If you let that feeling take over you, you’ll start to fall. You have to control it.” Tom rubbed his thumbs along the back of Harry’s hands.

“Okay…” Harry was imagining it. He had fallen from tall heights plenty of times in his life to know the feeling well. At first, he didn’t feel anything. His feet were still planted firmly on the ground and he could hear the grass rustling close by.

“Wonderful.” Tom encouraged. “Keep your eyes closed.”

So, Harry continued to focus. His mind went back to every time he fell off of his broom, or when he missed a step going down the stairs. All that fear and excitement he felt all at the same time, was something that could only be described through experience.

“There you go, Harry. Don’t stop. Keep going. Control it.” Tom smiled at Harry, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re doing beautifully.”

Suddenly, Harry felt something different in the atmosphere and he couldn’t help but open his eyes. He looked down and realized that he was at least a hundred yards in the air, the field of white and blue flowers stretched further than he could see.

“Tom, it’s amazing.” Harry grinned.

“Close your eyes!” Tom screamed. But it was too late. In his excitement, Harry looked into Tom’s eyes and once again found only the red eyes of Lord Voldemort. Tom Riddle’s face melted away revealing the snake like features of the Dark Lord.

Reality came crashing into him, and instead of waking up like he usually did, Harry let the fear take over his heart and he started falling, the wind rushing loudly past his ears.

 “No!” Voldemort shouted, grabbing Harry around the waist.

On instinct, Harry reached for Voldemort and clung to him as though his life depended on it. “No, no, what’s going on? What are you doing here?” Harry said panicked. The world around them, once beautiful and filled with life, now looked dead and dark.

Harry was terrified, he was floating a hundred yards in the air with nothing but _Lord Voldemort_ stopping him from falling.

Voldemort held Harry tight in his arms and instructed “Think back, Harry. Remember that feeling? That’s why you can’t let the fear control you. It will let you fall. Control it. Master it, and fly again.”

Harry was too frightened to think clearly. He was clutching onto Voldemort with his eyes shut tight, both out of fear of falling, and out of fear of facing his reality.

“I’m not taking you down there. You’ll have to do it yourself.” Voldemort sighed.

“I’ll jump then.” Harry threatened, still clutching the Dark Lord.

“Would you really? You know, they say if you die in a dream, you die in real life. I was hoping to face you again in the future. If I have to watch you kill yourself over something petty like this, then I will be disappointed.” Voldemort scoffed. “Now concentrate. Remember the freedom in falling. Use it as a guide.”

Harry wanted to argue, but he had to admit that Voldemort had a point. So once again, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Ever so slowly, Harry started floating on his own, easing off of Voldemort as he did.

When he opened his eyes again, he was once again holding the Dark Lords hands and flying in the air.

“I…I did it.” Harry gasped in disbelief. “Is this really how you fly, or is this just a part of the dream?” He asked without thinking.

“Harry, of course its apart of the dream, but why on earth would you think this isn’t real?” Voldemort grinned.

A single blue flower blossomed in the darkness below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated.


	5. Day Five, Reminder

For Harry, his reminder stared at him in the face every time he looked at in the mirror. His scar stood out on his skin like a target. Might as well have been with all of the trouble it has caused him.

Every time Voldemort felt a strong emotion, or was doing something important, Harry got a front row seat and a massive headache to join it. It was impossible not to think about Lord Voldemort every time his eyes glanced up at his reflection to look at the ugly scar that was forever on his forehead.

For Voldemort, every time he took a breath it was impossible not to think about Harry. He was the only reason he had a body after all. Every time he moved, every time he saw his blood he would think of him. “No, it’s Harry’s blood, isn’t it?” Voldemort said to himself.

It was like a constant drum in the back of his mind that he couldn’t ignore. Every beat of his heart said “Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry.” It was impossible to get his mind off of him.

If his Death Eaters noticed, they dare not say anything. Except of course, Bellatrix who constantly reminded him that she would kill the boy as soon as she could. If only he would ask her. “My Lord, think of how much we could accomplish if he was out of the way!” She would say.

“The boy is _mine¸_ Bella. You are not to touch him. _No one_ is allowed to touch him.” He had to remind her yet again. His heartbeat in his ears still said “Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.”

Often, he found it infuriating that they didn’t hear or see the same things he did. How could they not see that if it wasn’t for the boy, he wouldn’t be standing in front of them. He could have found any of his followers and used them for their flesh. He didn’t _need_ Pettigrew’s hand, and his father had plenty of bones turning to dust in the earth, and it wasn’t like they would be hard to find.

Harry was so important to his very existence, the very man he had become, and yet no one else seemed to realize that.

Voldemort looked down at his hands, and it was almost as if he could feel ever cell of Harry’s blood pumping through his veins, and fighting to keep him alive.

“Amazing,” Voldemort whispered to himself, his fingers lightly tracing over his wrist. In the back of his mind, he could feel their connection widening. “Asleep already?” The warmth of Harry’s mind touched the edge of his and put a smile on his face.

The boy was _his_ and there was nothing in the world that would separate them. Not even death.

“Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.” His heartbeat in his head.

How could they possibly not think about him the way he did?

“Hello, Harry.” Tom smiled as he entered Harry’s dream.  


	6. Day Six, New to the Family

“I killed Sirius Black. I killed Sirius Black! You coming to get me?” She laughed as she ran through the field. Harry chased her, rage and revenge where the only things fueling his adrenaline.

“Stupify!” Harry shouted his spell at her and it missed by only an inch.

“Missed me, missed me!” She chanted. The threw a stunning spell of her own at him that missed by several feet. They ran all the way into a clearing filled, the water soaking through their shoes. Bellatrix stopped, spun around and cast a cruciatus curse at Harry who in turn cast a shield charm just in time. “I don’t know what he sees in you. You are just a stupid boy, with delusions of grandeur.” She cast another cruciatus curse at him.

“You’re insane!” Harry shouted as he dodged her curse, the edge of it brushed his shoulder making his arm feel like he had pins and needles. They cast curse after curse at each other, both dodging and shielding when they needed to. Harry cast every curse he had up his sleeve, some he only knew because Tom Riddle, no… Lord Voldemort taught him.

“You would be nothing without him! No one would even care what your name was! You have been nothing but an annoyance to my master, and when I bring him your head, he will adore me above all else. You cannot compete with me, little Potter!” She roared at him, and cast a fateful green curse at him.

Luckily, Harry dodged just in time and countered “You’re jealous! You’re actually jealous! You’re upset because he wants to kill me more than he loves you! You think that killing me will make him _want you?_ Then you don’t know him at all. Voldemort has deluded himself into thinking that I _belong_ to him, and he doesn’t share well. What do you think will happen when he finds out you have killed me?”

Harry’s words seemed to have struck a chord with Bellatrix because she looked as though she had been slapped. She even stumbled a bit at and her hand went to her chest as though her heart had suddenly hurt her.

“Then…” she said soft enough to seem to be speaking to herself but loud enough so that Harry could hear. “Then I will just have to bring you to him then, hmm? Wrapped up like a little present. Won’t he like that? Unwrapping you, tearing the skin off your bones?”

Their battle didn’t get much farther than that. Soon after, help arrived in the form of Ginny Weasley, and several other Order members. All of them ready to lay down their lives for him if need be.

When they got back to the safety of the Burrow, a thought kept rolling around in Harry’s head. “Why does she think she has to compete with me?”

* * *

* * *

 

They were fighting over the vampires. The order had caught them on their way to meet with one of the clan leaders. Apparently, not all of their kind where willing to join the Dark Lord’s cause.

Curses flew, creating what would have been a beautiful light show if it were not for the air of death hanging over them. Voldemort wanted to laugh in the face of his enemies. If only they knew what Harry Potter dream about every night. If only they knew what Voldemort _truly_ had planned for him.

Arthur Weasley, and Remus Lupin stood side by side. Both could be considered father figures to Harry, and yet where were they when Harry needed them? Neither one could claim that they had stood next to Harry in the most important moments of his life. Each had more important things to worry about. Arthur would always place his own children above him, and Lupin’s image would always be at stake, so neither would be willing to risk their life for Harry when it came to it.

Voldemort smiled. He was better than them. He _had_ been there in almost all of Harry’s more important moments in one form or another. True, he had been tormenting him or trying to kill him, but still he was there. Those memories with him had become more precious to him than all of his followers put together.

Now, Voldemort liked to think that he would risk almost anything just to _see_ Harry again. His obsession. The very reason he had air in his lungs, and blood in his veins. Not his life of course, but something of value. Something that he would not risk for anyone else.

If he killed the two men now, then it would only give Harry more reason to listen to him. Maybe not as Lord Voldemort, but that day wouldn’t be far off.

Voldemort raised his wand towards the two men. It was time to test his theory.  


	7. Day Seven, Laughter

They sat with their backs pressed up against each other for support. Harry was petting Hedwig while Tom was just enjoying the feeling of Harry’s back pressed against him. Their comfortable silence had stretched on through the dream. Tom could feel that Harry was happy about something, but didn’t want to pressure him into talking just yet.

Voldemort had been raging just before he entered Harry’s mind. A Death Eater who had the misfortune of coming back without his mask on, ended up being the main victim of his fury. He ended up limping home with one of his own arms missing. A price to pay for his mistake and a lesson learned for the rest of them. Do not fail me again.

The elder Weasley and the werewolf had gotten away, but not without one of them losing an arm. He didn’t know who it was yet. Everything happened too fast for him to see.

“Did you ever play any pranks on anyone when you were at school?” Harry asked, breaking the silence.

“Hmm? Probably none that are considered funny by your standards.” Tom answered. “But yes, I played a few pranks.”

“Like what?” Harry continued to pet his dream owl.

“Well… I once let a snake lose in the girl’s dorm.” Tom looked up at the bright blue sky. White and blue flowers blew softly in the wind.

“Really? That’s… completely in character for you. Who pissed you off?” The dream Hedwig stretched her wings and hooted softly.

“All of them. They made fun of my hair.” Tom said flatly.

Harry couldn’t contain himself. He burst out laughing and the sudden movement caused the dream owl to fly away in shock. “Oh.. oh my god. _Really?_ I can’t imagine you trying to get revenge for something so… _silly.”_

“It was not _silly._ Someone put a potion in my shampoo that turned my hair bright orange, and they were they only suspects. Served them right too. Who can call themselves a Slytherin, and be afraid of a little python?” Tom huffed.

Harry started laughing so hard, he fell over on his side. He didn’t even try to catch his breath for several minutes. Tom glared at him from over his shoulder.

“You think it’s that funny?” Tom grumbled.

“I think it’s hilarious.” Harry grinned. “You were once so human. It’s strange to think you did things that were so _normal._ All I’ve seen of you is how you rose to power, and your search for whatever it was that made you immortal.”

“You like seeing me as human?” Tom asked curiously.

Harry didn’t answer for a moment. Instead he sat back up, his back once again pressed against Tom’s. They couldn’t see each other’s faces. Tom had his head slightly turned, waiting patiently for whatever Harry might say.

Harry, had a sad smile on his face. “These dreams… I remember them sometimes when I wake up.” He couldn’t see the look of shock on Harry’s face. “I don’t know if you let them go on purpose, or if you just didn’t succeed in killing them but…” Harry took a deep breath. “Thank you for letting them come home. I don’t know what I would do without them.”

The wind continued to blow, the blue and white petals flew in the air. Tom’s breath caught when he felt a warm hand on his. “It’s funny. In these dreams, I forget what kind of monster you become. It’s like I can pretend that you are still human, even in some ways.” Harry continued. “Is he still human, Tom? Somewhere deep down in all of that darkness?”

Voldemort didn’t know how to answer.


	8. Day Eight, First Kiss

Dumbledore was dead.

His hope was crushed.

All he wanted to do was sleep.

Hermione said it was a bad idea to drink a sleeping potion, but Harry just wanted to forget. He wanted to forget that _it was all his fault_. He should have done _something_ to save him. Dumbledore should have trusted him to fight by his side. Harry would have done anything to protect his mentor.

_Maybe that’s why he cast you aside. You are too rash. You would have made things worse._

The little voice inside his head wasn’t going easy on him. That is exactly why he wanted to forget everything that had just happened for at least a few hours. Snape, the traitor, had abandoned the school, so his stores were free for Harry to take whatever he wanted.

As he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep safe inside his dorm room. Harry was disappointed to open them up again to see an endless field of snow. His dream offering no protection against the imaginary cold.

“Of course, the potion wouldn’t work,” Harry moaned. “Why would I ever be able to catch a break?”

“Where you running from me, Harry?” Tom announced from behind him. “I’m hurt.”

“I just wanted to _not think_ for a while.” Harry’s eyes closed. The pain and anguish he had been holding back was building up in his chest, and he could already feel tears building up in his eyes. “This is too much to deal with.”

Tom took a step closer to him, not touching, but close enough that Harry could feel his presence. “What happened.” Tom asked, his voice filled with sympathy.

Hands turned to fists, and Harry almost didn’t want to answer. “He…Dumbledore is dead. Snape killed him. I _should have saved him_. I should have killed that fucking traitor when I had the chance. Instead I…I…” Tears fell from Harry’s eyes, and landed in the cold snow.

Tom’s grin was impossible to stop. The mirth in his voice was unmistakable “He’s dead?”

“Don’t say anything you sick bastard.” Harry snapped. “I don’t want to hear anything from you.” 

A hand landed on Harry’s shoulder, and he felt a hot breath on his ear. “Harry, I’ve never liked him. Not even in my youth. He was manipulative, a liar, and tried everything in his power to make sure that I went back to that horrid orphanage every summer. His reasoning was _I needed to be there in case someone wanted me._ You think I _won’t_ celebrate his death?”

The hand on his shoulder spun him around so that Harry and Tom where face to face. The red in Tom’s eyes slowly melted away revealing Lord Voldemort. “You want to know if I still have any humanity left _Harry?”_ Voldemort hissed, his other hand came up to grab a fist full of Harry’s hair so that he couldn’t pull away.

“Stop it! Get out of my dreams!” The tears on Harry’s face seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. “Please, I don’t… I can’t…” The tears couldn’t stop falling. He didn’t want to deal with Voldemort right now, he just wanted a moment of peace.

Voldemort’s eyes seemed to soften at the expression on Harry’s face. “With Dumbledore gone, you do realize there is nothing protecting you from me.”

“I’ll manage.” Harry challenged. Even with the sadness written on his face, he was not afraid to stand up to the man in front of him. Voldemort stared into Harry’s eyes for a moment, before loosening his hold on his hair.

“I’ll grant you the moment of peace you want, but…” Both of his hands moved to cup Harry’s face. “Not without a goodnight kiss.” He pulled their faces together, and their lips touched.

Surprisingly, Harry found Voldemort’s lips to be soft and warm. A noticeable contrast against the biting cold that surrounded them. Harry was too surprised to move; his hands had become lax at his side.

When he was finished, Harry could see the deep blood red eyes of Lord Voldemort only inches away from his face. “I may not have any humanity left in me, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to find some for you.” Voldemort whispered.

The world around Harry vanished, and he thought no more.


	9. Day Nine, Thirdwheeling

She was always next to him like a leech who didn’t know it was about to be burned off. Voldemort valued her skills and her loyalty, but she was overstepping her position more often than not lately. He had told her that he did not want _anyone_ to attack Harry Potter, and yet she fought him at the Weasley residence. She thought that he did not mean her, when he gave that order.

“I only aim to please you my lord. I am your most trusted.” She said with her head to the floor in a low bow.

“Do you honestly believe that I still trust you after you went against my orders?” Voldemort hissed in anger. The rage boiled inside him, making his hand almost twitch for his wand. He felt the connection between him and Harry move, and suddenly he was not alone in his own head. “Good. Let him see. He needs to know.” He thought.

“My lord?” Bellatrix lifted her head in confusion.

“Who do you think you are, Bella?” Voldemort took a threatening step closer to her, drawing his wand. “I want to make something very clear to you, so that you do not make this same mistake again. You are nothing but a Death Eater to me, do you understand? That means you _will_ follow my orders, or you will receive the same treatment as everyone else.”

Bellatrix screamed louder than Harry thought possible as Voldemort cast the torture curse on her. She writhed and thrashed in agony and He could do nothing to block out the sight or sound. Voldemort glared at her with a sickening sense of satisfaction. Suprisingly, Voldemort felt the same type of emotion coming off of Harry as well.

“Harry Potter is _mine._ Have I not been clear on that? Do you need another reminder?” Voldemort sneered once he released the curse. Inside his mind, he told Harry “Did you enjoy that? Do you want me to do it again?”

Harry was conflicted. He wanted nothing more than to see the hateful woman who killed his godfather tortured, but at the same time, he knew it wasn’t the right choice.

“It could be our little secret, Harry,” Voldemort whispered in his mind again. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Master, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise. The boy is yours,” Bellatrix pleaded. Voldemort looked into her eyes and saw nothing but jealousy for Harry there. She wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if she ever got the opportunity.

Voldemort cast another curse at her and once again Bellatrix fell screaming onto the floor. Harry couldn’t tell if the elated feeling was coming from him, or Voldemort. With their connection, it was impossible to tell. Together, their minds intertwined so that the next words that came out of Voldemort’s mouth seemed to come from both of them. “You deserve this Bellatrix, you know you do. You are _nothing_ compared to Harry Potter, and you will never be. If you hurt him again, I will not hesitate to skin you, is that clear?”

Bellatrix looked like she was heartbroken “Yes, my lord. Of course. I am so sorry, please…please…” Her eyes glossed over from the tears quickly filling up her eyes.

“Get out of my sight,” They snapped at her, and she ran from the room.

It was a strange feeling, their minds molded together the way they were. There were no walls between them, no thoughts hidden from one another. Harry could feel the endless power that came from the Dark Lord, and the feeling of impossibility. Anything he set his mind to, he could do just because he was who he was.

Voldemort could feel _everything._ It was like a new world was opened up to him. He understood joy, kindness, sadness, and grief. All things that only might have come to him before as mere shadows of what he was feeling now. But most importantly, he could see Harry’s capacity to love, and that is what broke their connection.

It was overwhelming, that feeling. It was stronger than any magic he had ever felt before, and he didn’t know how to control it.

“You’re not supposed to control it,” Harry told him. “That’s what makes it so powerful. Once you try, it can slip away. It can become anything it want too. All you have to do is let it.”

Voldemort, irritated with the knowledge that Harry had given him, pushed him from his mind so that he was alone. He had no time for useless magics he could not use to his advantage. He had better tools at his disposal after all.

Some which he still needed to obtain. Which reminded him that he still needed to pay a visit to Dumbledore’s grave sometime soon…

 


	10. Day Ten, Flustered

Voldemort had only been moments away from catching him. Harry was at the ministry of all places. What possessed the boy to do something as risky and insane as walking into the ministry, he might never understand. What purpose would the boy have to risk himself and his friends by putting themselves in danger Iike that?

When Voldemort walked into Harry’s dreams that night, it was once again as Tom Riddle. Harry sat in and old and dreary bedroom, his head rested on the cold window looking out into the stormy night. Although he didn’t realize it, they were in Harry and Ron’s old shared bedroom in Grimmauld Place.

“Are you well?” Tom asked while shutting the door behind him. Harry didn't acknowledge Tom’s presence, instead he pulled his knees up to his chest; a visual guard against the emotions raging inside him. In the background, Tom could swear he heard a slight, high pitched ringing coming from all around them. Harry didn’t seemed worried about it or notice it at all.

“This is… an interesting room,” Tom tried for conversation. “It seems homely. I see why you would dream about it.”

“Tom. Don’t.” Harry sighed without looking at him. “I’m not in the mood.”

Tom looked visibility irritated, and walked closer to Harry until he was standing behind him. “Well that’s rude, and here I thought we had become friends.”

“Tom.” Harry snapped. “I don’t want to talk. Please, just…”

Tom sneered. Harry wouldn’t act like this if he was himself. He would not dare to ignore him, or refuse to look at him if he were here as Lord Voldemort. Why must the boy insist on dreaming about him like this? If there were no more barriers between them, no false sense of safety that Harry felt when he was in this dream word, then their connection they shared could become so much more.

“Harry.” Tom hissed in warning. “I don’t like being ignored.” Tom placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder and the ringing noise in the room became unbearable. It was like it was saying “Notice me! I’m here! I’m here!”

“Oh,” Tom said in surprise. He knew exactly what it was it’s sound was suddenly so familiar to him. He was recognizing a piece of his own soul. “Harry, have you been hunting my horcruxes?”

Harry froze.

Tom turned Harry around to face him and instinctively, Harry closed his eyes. “Look at me, Harry.” Tom ordered softly, the anger was noticeable in his voice.

“No.” Harry shook his head. His eyes were shut tight like a child refusing to face his fears.

“Harry, it doesn’t belong to you. It’s mine. It's-” Something in his own words caused him to pause. Their connection… it was stronger with the presence of the horcrux. Did that mean that it was increasing their connection, or creating a new one?

Mine

“Harry, where are you hiding?” Tom asked suddenly charming. “I’ll take it off your hands. They can become such a burden to those who don’t know how to handle them.”

“No… no i’m okay.” Harry’s eyes remained tightly closed, but a look of uncertainty passed over his face. “I can handle it.”

Tom grinned. “Are you sure? Because unlike mortals, they don’t sleep. They will be constantly affecting you, digging into you mind...feeding off your soul.” He pulled Harry up to sit on on the edge of the dusty bed. The ringing noise a constant companion in the background. “Open your eyes, Harry. I can show you how to fight it.” He wanted Harry to see him as he truly was, not this young and weak thing he used to be.

“No.” Harry repeated. Even in his dream state, he knew that opening his eyes was bad. It meant that something would change, and it would not be good for him. But, he couldn’t remember what it was.

“Harry, how are you supposed to fight it?” Tom persuaded. “Open your eyes. Open your mind. Don’t you want to protect your friends?” He moved to kneel between Harry’s knees on the bed. Tom’s eyes were constantly focused on Harry’s hidden ones, ready for even the slightest hint that they would open.

“Harry, don’t you trust me?” He said with fake sadness. “I’m hurt. I’ve never lied to you. Not once.”

“You also leave out important information,” Harry replied. He could feel the weight of Tom in front of him.

“I leave out important information for you. Harry if I told you every little thing, think about how much danger you could be in. Trust me, please. Look at me, let me find you. I can help you. I can protect you.” Tom’s hands cupped Harry’s face so that he couldn't turn away.

“Tom, stop.” Harry pleaded. “I don’t want to.”

“That’s not my name and you know it,” Tom hissed. “Look at me.” Voldemort’s anger had already transformed him. His snake-like form replaced his younger self, and Harry could feel the soft smaller hands touching his cheeks, turn into calloused larger ones.

Voldemort used his weight to push Harry back onto the bed and placed himself on top of him. The only thing Harry would see when he opened his eyes would be Voldemort’s face above his. “Where are you Harry? Where is my soul?”

The ringing in the room grew louder, and Harry finally seemed to take notice. He moved his hands to cover his ears, but Voldemort snatched his hands away before he could, holding him tightly by the wrists. Harry’s head turned to the side, and back again like someone trying to get a song out of their head. His eyes still shut tight so he could not see Voldemort above him.

The weight holding Harry down was impossible to ignore. The ringing in his ears felt like it was clawing it’s way into his heart and mind. His head twisted to the opposite side in another hopeless attempt to make the ringing stop. Even though he could not see him with his eyes, Harry could feel the undivided attention that Voldemort was giving him.

“Get off,” Harry demanded. “Get off. Get out of my head!”

Ignoring Harry’s words, Voldemort leaned down and pressed his lips beneath Harry’s ear. Harry tried to shift away to get away from the action, but with Voldemort’s weight pinning him down prevented him. Voldemort licked and sucked at the skin there, occasionally biting at the bottom lobe when Harry tried shifting his head away again.

“Get off!” Harry yelled as he tried to pull his hands away.

“Tell me where you are,” Voldemort whispered in his ear. “Tell me where my soul is.” He squeezed Harry’s wrists painfully tight “Open your eyes.” Voldemort pressed their bodies tighter together. His lips brushed against Harry’s ear, almost as a caress.

Mine

Because of the attention he was receiving, Harry’s cheeks had become warm and bright pink. His hands were moved above his head, and Voldemort returned his attention to Harry’s ear and moved down to his neck.

The ringing became louder and louder, until Harry couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes flew open to see Voldemort holding his wrist by his head, and the storm blowing strong through the window.

Voldemort’s motions stopped and he lifted his head to look into Harry’s eyes. Instantly, he took the opportunity to dive into his mind, searching for where he and his friends were hiding. Harry couldn’t do anything to stop him. The effect of the horcrux widened their connection so that it was as if Voldemort dove into his own mind rather than Harry’s.

Harry couldn’t look away. The pull of Voldemort’s attention was impossible to resist when they were looking at each other like this.

Mine

Suddenly, Harry could hear a voice off in the distance as if he were hearing it from beneath water. Before he knew it, the dream room around him dissolved and he was looking up into he worried eyes of Hermione.

“You were having a nightmare,” She explained. “You were thrashing in your sleep. Maybe someone else should hold onto it for a while…”

Harry could still feel the ghost of pressure that Voldemort left on him, and the wetness beneath his ear. He couldn't tell if the sudden cold he felt from the loss of Voldemort's body was something he was grateful for or not. 


	11. Day Eleven, Rest

The second Harry put on the locket, his dreams had changed permanently. It was like a wall had been destroyed in his mind, preventing him from seeing the truth and now whenever he closed his eyes he saw Voldemort instead of Tom Riddle.

Gone where their innocent little conversations. Instead, every dream had become a battle against Voldemort delving deeper into his mind. Harry would have mourned the loss of his dream companion, but he had bigger things to worry about.

Like Voldemort caressing his face.

It was in the same gesture that Tom would do to him, or maybe it had been an action of Voldemort’s all along. It was something he would do to express his feelings without using any words, and without looking into his eyes.

Sometimes, it would feel possessive. The hand would slowly make its way down his face and to his neck where it would feel the beating of Harry’s heart just beneath the skin. Almost like he wanted to tear it out of his chest just because he could.

Others, it would feel almost loving if Harry didn’t know otherwise. The hand would rest on his cheek, right next to his eyes, as though he was longing to see the green that remained hidden from him. He could see in these moments why it was so easy for people to follow him. The loving attention of Tom Riddle was something that anyone would crave.

Now it felt different. Almost like a kindness compared to what Harry knew he could do.

Harry’s back was pressed against a brick wall. In his dream the night life of London walked passed them, uncaring that there was a man who looked more monster than human towering over him.

There was nowhere in his dream that Harry could run that Voldemort wouldn’t find him. He tried a thousand times, and Voldemort always knew. All Harry could do, was wait until his dream was over so that he could finally open his eyes.

“Aren’t you tired of running, Harry?” Voldemort crooned. “It’s been months now. You can’t keep hiding from me forever.”

“I can and I will.” Harry replied calmly, remaining still. He wasn’t going to give into Voldemort’s attention, no matter how appreciated it was. Right now, he wished that Voldemort was still Tom Riddle. It might have made this easier for the both of them.

“You can pretend all you want to. I’m not changing back into that _weak_ form of myself,” Voldemort threatened as if reading his mind. “It only lowers your defenses against me.” He leaned in closer, and pressed his lips to Harry’s scar.

“It lets me pretend that there is still something in you worth caring about.” Harry said softly.

Voldemort glared at him. His gentle caress turned into sharp claws down his face. “I will not be compared to _him._ ”

“You were _him_. You can’t just forget your past. Not if it’s that important. It can help shape who you are, and who you will become. It is not how you were born, but what you will-”

“Do _not_ quote that bastard to me!” Voldemort yelled, making Harry flinch. No one around them noticed.

“Aren’t you tired of running from your past?” Harry asked calmly. The muggles around them suddenly faded away, as if they were never there at all and Voldemort and Harry were the only two in existence. “Please just try for some remorse? You’ve destroyed yourself, but there is still a way back. All you have to do is try.”

Voldemort looked at Harry’s closed eyes. Did the boy honestly believe that he would reverse everything he had worked so hard for? “This isn’t about me. This is about you, and where you are hiding. Everything I have done, everything I have worked for has made me more powerful than you could possibly dream.”

“This _is_ about you. Why do you think we are searching so hard to find your horcruxes? You could save yourself if you would just-”

“Enough!” Voldemort hissed. He moved so that his lips were brushing against Harry’s. It would have been romantic, if it were not for the darkness hanging in the air. “You will not speak of this nonsense again. I do not need to do anything. You will never find where my soul is kept, I am certain of it.”

Harry swallowed, too afraid to respond at first. Then he lifted his hand and placed in on Voldemort’s cheek. “I hope we do not find them either. For your sake… for the sake of who you were I do not want to destroy you. But, there are too many people that I care about counting on me.”

Voldemort’s eyes widen at the affection that Harry was freely giving him. His own hand rested on top of Harry’s. “And what about me? Can you live with the knowledge that you are not only killing me, but you are destroying my soul? That is more than I have ever done to a man, Harry. I have destroyed many lives, but never have I destroyed anyone’s soul.”

“No. Just your own.” Harry replied sadly. “For what it’s worth, I think that there is still some of Tom Riddle inside of you. All of this,” Harry’s other hand came to the other side of Voldemort’s face. “All of the time we shared while you were _pretending_ to be your old self. I think it was real. I know it was real, and that’s what makes this so much harder.”

Voldemort pressed his forehead to Harry’s. “ _Where_ _are you?_ ”

When Harry woke up again, the locket was ticking a heartbeat against his chest.


	12. Day Twelve, Shopping

One thing the trio had not planned on, was the hunger. They knew they would be facing battles, hiding from death eaters, and hunting down trinkets with little to know idea what they actually were. But the hunger snuck up on them like a snake in tall grass.

It gave them headaches, and made them fight each other when they should have been working together. It was bad enough that they risked their lives just by _hiding_ , but when they fought each other, they became weaker as a team and as friends.

That was why Harry had snuck away for a while. The reckless hero in him _needed_ to help his friends even at the risk of him being found. Voldemort had said time and time again that no one else was supposed to hurt him, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t try.

He was inside a normal muggle market, the people around him saw him nothing more as another shopper trying to hurry along so they can get home and out of the cold weather. It was easy to sneak food into his pockets, he had Hermione add an extension charm on them long ago for any occasion and the charms he placed on himself prevented any of the muggles from paying attention to him for too long.

There was fruit, meats, bread, and sweets. And anything else that might last long enough for them to drive off the Hunger.

Neither Ron nor Hermione felt comfortable with stealing, and they would probably reprimand him once he returned. But, they did not grow up with the Dursleys where stealing food to survive was a part of everyday life.

The second he walked out of the store, he stuffed some of the bread he stole into his mouth. To his hungry mind, it tasted like the most delicious thing he had ever eaten in his life. His stomach cramped at first to the sudden presence, of food and he had to fright for a moment against the instinct to gag.

He just hoped that his friends would go easy on him for risking their safety for the sake of food.

* * *

 

One thing he had not planned on, was just how many there were. The muggles walked by him without even noticing him. If they did, they would have screamed _monster_ and ran in the other direction.

They would have been right to do so. Voldemort knew what he was and did not like it when people questioned otherwise. Especially by people like _Harry Potter._ Harry’s tenderness with him had left him feeling things that he did not like. Things he thought he had rid himself of when he split his soul.

He often forgot what Muggles looked like when they were together. Like roaches scurrying around in the dark. They couldn’t just be satisfied with one piece of land. No, they had to branch out like the vermin disease they were and destroy every new place they touched.

Which one should he pick?

Would it be the girl sitting impatiently with her mother? She wouldn’t last very long. Her screams would be beautiful, but her mind would break long before life ever would.

Perhaps it could be the elderly man, sitting alone on the sidewalk, begging for scraps of food or money. If he just grew his beard out some more, he would have looked an awful lot like Dumbledore. Voldemort smirked at the thought of splitting his chest open and crushing his heart in his hand.

There were so many muggles to choose from. So many meaningless lives that he could destroy with only the flick of his wrist. It was impossible to choose just one, so he might as well choose them all.

None of them expected a fiery serpent to burst forth from the snow. The second they saw the creature, they all ran for their lives. Voldemort laughed at their attempts to flee. None of them would escape.

Cars, buildings, and even the ground melted when the creature came to close. The muggles screamed in horror as it burned through, and ate everyone it approached. Voldemort did not bother casting his mark above the carnage. The world didn’t need it to know he was here. The death toll would be enough of a sign.

The one muggle who had looked a surprising amount like Dumbledore crouched behind one of the buildings in an attempt to wait out the danger. Cutting the poor man open didn’t bring as much satisfaction as Voldemort thought it would, but tearing out his heart did.

He held it in his hand. It twitched away the last of its life, spraying blood on the side of his face. Just as he was about to crush it beneath his fingers he stopped, suddenly having a better idea. “Shall I show him what sort of humanity Lord Voldemort has?” He asked the dead man.

That night, Harry Potter dreamed of receiving a present with a beating heart inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you have been following me from my previous tumblr (Or you haven't that's cool too) I accidentally deleted my blog like a dumb. SO if you would like to see more content that I do not post on archive or anywhere else other than Tumblr (Yes that means more fanfiction) Add me on Tumblr!
> 
> BigJellyMonster.Tumblr.com


	13. Day Thirteen, Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_MgnVlEJ2M
> 
> For the version i was listening too

Ron couldn’t take the wizarding radio anymore, so Hermione switched it over to muggle stations. Every hour, there would be a report on the latest casualty, along with a reminder that the three of them where still at large and should be brought to the ministry on sight.

The muggle news wasn’t any better. They too had constant updates on the latest tragedies, but it was difficult to tell if it was because of the war, or bad luck. What Harry found comforting was the music. None of the songs mentioned anything about magic and if they did it was only about the magic of love or a moment. It helped him escape reality if only for a little while.

He was laying on his bunk while Ron and Hermione sat together by a magical fire that Hermione had created. The two had their heads close together, stuck in a private conversation.

“Up next we have a reimagined version classic love song! So, find that special someone to cuddle up with by the fire because it’s about to get cold out there!” The radio announced.

**_Imagine me and you, I do_**

 “I wonder what everyone is doing at Hogwarts right now.” Harry overheard Ron ask Hermione. “Do you reckon Ginny and everyone is doing alright?”

**_I think about you day and night, it’s only right_ **

“I’m sure they are doing fine. Ginny is tougher than you think,” Hermione comforted him.

“She shouldn’t have to be there all on her own. I should be there with her,” Ron worried. “I should be protecting her!”

**_To think about the girl you love and hold her tight_ **

 “She doesn’t need protecting. She needs you to remain focused and help us find more Horcruxes so that she can see her big brother again.” Hermione squeezed his hand.

“More so that she can just see Harry again.” Ron rolled his eyes.

**_So happy together_ **

Harry couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. He knew that Ginny was more than capable of handling herself. He had seen her skills in practice more than enough times to not have to stay up late worrying about her.

He stood up and walked outside of the tent. The two of them were having a private moment and he spied on it long enough. Luckily the music still made its way through the tent flap so he did not have to sit in silence.

**_If I should call you up, invest a dime_ **

One thing that _did_ keep Harry up at night, is the constant worry as to what Voldemort was doing at that exact moment, and the fear of what would happen once he drifted off to sleep.

**_And you say you belong to me and ease my mind_ **

Harry felt conflicted. He longed to know more about the man and at the same time he wanted to push him out of his dreams so he could have a peaceful slumber for once.

**_Imagine how the world could be, so very fine_ **

How many times had Harry come _so close_ to opening his eyes and letting Voldemort find them? A touch that felt too intimate or the closeness he felt when Voldemort towered above him so that it seemed like they were the only two in the world, make him forget that he was supposed to be guarding his mind against him.

**_So happy together_ **

For all of his talk about not wanting to be the “weak” person he was before he became Voldemort, he still knew how to charm someone. It didn’t matter if it was through flattery, soft touches, or even threats. Voldemort always got a reaction out of him

**_I can't see me lovin' nobody but you_ ** **_  
For all my life_ **

Harry was too embarrassed to tell them about his dreams. He was afraid of their reactions. Fear he could understand. If he failed to block his mind in his dreams, then Voldemort would find them within an instant and they would have no warning.

**_When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue_ ** **_  
For all my life_ **

If they were disgusted, Harry wouldn’t blame them for that either. What would he say to someone if they dreamed about Voldemort caressing their face or sending them beautiful gifts only to find the horror behind it when they woke up?

**_Me and you and you and me  
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be_ **

Harry thinks it would be worse if they understood. Tom Riddle _had_ been a master manipulator after all. What’s to say that Voldemort wouldn’t be better?

**_The only one for me is you, and you for me_ **

He twisted the locket in his hands.

**_So happy together_ **

It wasn’t hard to imagine Ron and Hermione together inside the warm tent. They were so perfect for each other, sometimes Harry felt jealous. It was times like these when he would miss Ginny the most.

**_I can't see me lovin' nobody but you  
For all my life_ **

But looking at his best friends, he could see how much they needed each other. They fit together like two puzzle pieces. When one couldn’t do something, the other would swoop in and save the day.

**_When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue  
For all my life_ **

Ginny didn’t need him for anything. She was more than capable of handling things on her own. What good would Harry ever be to her?

**_Me and you and you and me_ **

He liked to think that Voldemort needed him. If they weren’t out hunting Horcruxes, the very thing that would destroy him, Harry would try harder at getting him to repair his soul.

**_No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be_ **

If he could just get him to _feel_ again, he might have a chance at remorse, and he could save Voldemort instead. What good would come out of destroying a man so thoroughly that he would never face his sins?

**_The only one for me is you, and you for me_ **

Sometimes, Harry honestly believed that Voldemort was starting to remember what it was like when he was whole.

**_So happy together_ **

He didn’t have to save Harry from falling to his death while he was in a dream. Instead he caught him and taught him how to fly all on his own.

**_Me and you and you and me_ **

He didn’t have to pretend to be Tom Riddle. Instead, he took his time and told Harry his past, and in turn listened to Harry when he told his.

**_No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be_ **

He doesn’t have to wait for Harry to open his eyes in his dreams, he could just as easily force them open. Instead, he tries to seduce him with words, touches or power.

**_The only one for me is you, and you for me_ **

The gift was horrifying, that much was true. But what significance would Voldemort have to give Harry a heart? A lung or an eye would have served the same purpose in terrifying Harry. But he chose the one organ that signified emotion. Did he not know what he was doing, or was he trying once again to manipulate Harry?

**_So happy together_ **

What would it be like to love a Dark Lord?

**_So happy together_ **

He would always have to watch his back around him. He would never be truly safe in his presence. There would always be those who would be jealous of him and try to kill him for it.

**_How is the weather_ **

Would his lips feel the same as in the dream? Or has his mind come up with an imaginary feeling of what he _thinks_ it would be like.

**_So happy together_ **

Harry didn’t realize when he drifted off to sleep. The music still played in his dreams

**_We're happy together_ **

He sat on a beach he had seen in a memory of Tom Riddle. The water looked warm and inviting, but for some reason he felt so cold.

**_So happy together_ **

It was so peaceful there, he dreaded the moment Voldemort would show up and he would have to close his eyes again.

**_Happy together_ **

What would Harry’s own childhood have been like if he was allowed to visit a place as beautiful as this?

**_So happy together_ **

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and instantly closed his eyes.

**_So happy together_ **


	14. Day Fourteen, Stargazing

They were in the flower field again. The stars shown in the sky, twinkling one by one. Harry wished he could see it. His eyes were once again shut tight with Voldemort looking at them, waiting for any sign of weakness.

“The Black family names all their children after the stars you know. It is almost poetic, until you look down the family tree and see three people named some form of Draco. It gets boring after a while.” Voldemort mused, his finger’s twirling a blue flower on the ground.

The stars did not stay still. Every time Voldemort looked up, they were in different positions. None of their locations made sense in the real world, but in Harry’s dream he could imagine new consolations and images in whatever way he wanted.

“Why does it matter?” Harry asked.

“It doesn’t. Just making conversation since you don’t appear to be opening your eyes anytime soon. It’s a shame too. You are missing a beautiful night sky.” Voldemort sighed. “I think I can spot Sirius from here.”

“Don’t,” Harry snapped.

“What are you going to do about it? You can’t even see me,” Voldemort mocked. “What can you possibly do to stop me?”

Inside, Harry raged. His instincts where telling him to attack Voldemort for even _mentioning_ his godfather’s name, but his control was stronger so he remained silent.

“Too bad. I’m sure your godfather will be proud of you for taking the high road. I’ll be sure to tell Bellatrix. She might even cry a little.” Voldemort continued. “She misses her dear cousin sometimes, you know.”

Harry clenched his teeth, but remained silent.

“What would he say if he found out that Dumbledore abandoned you to fight this war all on your own. Do you think he would be proud of you? Or would he be disappointed that you haven’t even found a way to destroy my Horcrux?” Harry could feel Voldemort’s presence getting closer to him as he spoke.

“Stop.” Harry spat at him.

“Stop what, Harry? I’m only speaking the truth. Your godfather would have been so ashamed to find out just how much of a failure you and your friends are. You only found my locket by luck. Do you honestly believe you will ever find the rest?” Voldemort smirked.

Harry attacked blindly at first, but when Voldemort grabbed his fists, Harry finally opened his eyes to make sure that he could get in a well-aimed kick. Instantly, Voldemort flooded his mind and he was relentless. Harry’s mouth opened in a silent scream, unable to block him out.

” _Where are you, Harry,”_ he hissed. Memory after memory flew past in his mind.

Ron and Hermione huddled together.

Harry in the pensive with Dumbledore.

The kiss they shared.

The locket ticking like a heartbeat against his chest.

Ginny.

And finally, their tent and it’s many locations throughout the world.

“ _Found you._ ” Voldemort smiled as Harry jerked awake.

The only thing he could say to his friends in warning was “RUN!”


	15. Day Fifteen, Rainy Day

They ran and they did not stop. Harry could feel his scar burning against his skull. His legs felt like they would fall out from beneath him. The trio had run, apparated, and run again in an attempt to get away from their pursuers.

None of them could figure out how the snatchers kept finding them. Every time they would stop to catch their breath, the would be found again and the chase would begin again.

Currently, they were hiding together behind a building. The sky was dark and thunder clapped as the rain poured down above them. They were all cold and shivering but none risked casting a spell or they would risk being seen.

“They went this way,” a gravelly voice shouted.

Harry wished desperately that he could put on the invisibility cloak, but he did not know if it would work if it was wet, and it would be obvious to see if the rain around them did not touch the ground.

“You lot go around there, and you three with me! They can’t escape again.” The gravelly voice ordered.

Hermione shivered, both because of the cold and fear. “We can’t stay together. They will find us easier…” she whispered.

“Here,” Harry took off the horcrux and handed it to Ron. “You two take it and wait for me to lead them away. They are more likely to all chase after me than one of you.”

“No, are you insane? What if they catch you?” Ron leaned in close so that Harry could hear. The rain around them drowned out most of his voice.

“They won’t.” Harry smiled with certainty. “This is my fault, you two need to stay safe-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione scoffed. “It was only a matter of time before we got caught. We can’t survive on luck forever.”

Harry put his hand on Hermione’s shoulder but took it away once he saw the look on Ron’s face. Already the Horcrux was starting to affect him. “Get that thing destroyed. I love you both, truly.”

“Where the fuck are they,” A booming voice shouted not too far from them.

“I’ll run, and when they start following you two run in the other direction. I’ll find you eventually, don’t worry.” Harry stood up from his hiding spot and before either of his friends could stop him started running away from the Snatchers.

It didn’t take more than a second for one of them to spot him. Harry was already exhausted from running from them for so long, but now his friends lives rested on his shoulders and it gave him a burst of adrenaline.

The Snatchers cast spell after spell at him to stop him from running, but Harry was too fast and too quick to block their spells. They apparated in front of him without warning and Harry just kept running. He had to distract them long enough for his friends to escape to a safe place where they wouldn’t be able to find him.

Finally, Harry apparated to the first place that popped into his head. It was on a tall cliff overlooking the ocean. Harry had loved it when they had camped there. It gave them the illusion of peace and right now that is all he wanted. He could easily lose them among the endless caves that where at the bottom. But his luck seemed to have run out as it was raining there too.

Several loud cracks signaled the Snatcher’s arrival and surprised Harry. “How do they keep finding me?” Harry said to himself in irritation. He had no time to get down into the caves, and from the position the Snatchers had placed themselves, he was backed against the edge of the tall cliff. If he fell from here, he would hit the rocks at the bottom and certainly kill himself.

He fought them off for as long as he could. Spells shot out of his wand faster than they had in his entire life but, he couldn’t hold out forever. A powerful expelliarmus had his wand flying out of his hand and his feet stumbling backwards.

The only thing Harry heard before he fell off of the cliff was a man shout “You fucking idiot! Someone catch him or the Dark Lord is going to kill us all!” But he was too far gone for them to do anything about it.


	16. Day Sixteen, Superpowers

He had closed his eyes, already waiting for the inevitable. What would his friends say when they found out he died, not from a battle, but from falling to his death? At least they still had knowledge of the horcruxes and where prepared to continue the mission in his absence. The world would have been doomed if they all died, and this way Ron and Hermione still had each other.

But the pain he expected never came. Instead, a pair of strong arms caught him in an embrace that was similar to an old dream he had.

“You forgot how to fly already, Harry? I’m disappointed. Am I that poor of a teacher or are you not a very good student?” A sickeningly familiar voice said. Voldemort held him a few yards above the unforgiving rocks. His smile would have been comforting if it were not coming from _him._ “What a surprise to see you here.”

“No!” Harry tried to push Voldemort away. He would rather risk the rocks below than being in Voldemort’s arms. At least with the rocks, he knew what was going to happen.

“Harry, haven’t I told you? I’m not going to kill you. In fact, I have a much better idea.” His Nails dug into Harry’s arms. “Now where is my horcrux?”

Harry couldn’t help but grin, suddenly glad that he had left it with his friends. “I have no idea.” He replied honestly. “We split up. I was the distraction. Guess I did my job well enough.”

Voldemort sneered and dove into Harry’s unprepared mind. He searched thought his recent memories and found nothing other than Harry’s heartfelt goodbye to his friends before sacrificing himself for them. When he was finished, Harry sagged in Voldemort’s arms his exhaustion finally taking over him.

Voldemort flew back to the top of the cliff where the snatchers stood trying to figure out what to do next. When they saw their master land on the ground holding Harry, they all fell to their knees. “Which one of you was foolish enough to push him off?” He ordered. “Come forward.”

The man didn’t even have a chance to hide. The others all looked to him and gave him away.

“M-me, my lord.” The man bowed low at Voldemort’s feet. “I apologize. I didn’t mean too.”

“And yet you did anyway,” Voldemort said unusually calm. “But fear not. I am a merciful lord. I will spare you despite your failure.”

“Thank you… thank you my lord,” The man said still bowing low, his face touching the wet ground. He was too afraid to meet his master’s eyes.

“That is why I’m going to let you jump yourself.” He smiled cruelly.

That is when the man looked up in surprise. “W-what? My lord?”

“You can jump off that cliff, or I will give you to Bellatrix to play with. It’s your choice really. Die a quick death, or a slow and painful one. That is my mercy.” Voldemort held Harry closer to him. “You comrades will inform me of your choice I’m sure. But I have bigger things to attend to than your death.” With that, Voldemort apparated away leaving the men alone.

Voldemort took Harry to Malfoy Manor where he placed him down on his own bed. There was no other place more perfect for him. Harry slept soundly, unbothered by Voldemort’s presence in his dreams. For a moment, the Dark Lord thought that he might have wanted to fix that, but just watching Harry sleep was enough for him tonight.

He did not need to wait until the boy was asleep now to see him. He could now physically be with him whenever he wanted. A hand caressed the side of the sleeping Horcrux’s face. The fun could begin when Harry finally awoke, but for now he needed his rest.

Voldemort turned around and left his room, warding it behind him so that there was no chance of Harry escaping. Right now, he had two thieves to find before they destroyed something else that was precious to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how dedicated I am to this silly challenge? I'm drugged up from cold medicine, my head feels like it is about to explode, it's daylight savings time tomorrow, i have to be up early tomorrow morning, and it is 11pm. I hope you enjoy these short little chapters because some of these are really difficult to do. Aka fit with the theme for the day. 
> 
> Thank you all who have stuck with me for this long. It makes me smile every time i receive a comment. We are a little over halfway done!
> 
> I have a tumblr where i post more drabbles that i do not share on Ao3! Most are Harrymort or Tomarry but i do sneak in some drarry and GravesGraves/Harry potter in there.


	17. Day Seventeen, Double Date

Harry woke up feeling groggy. The only light in the room came from the window on the right side of the room, the curtains let in just enough sun for him to see his immediate surroundings. The bed he was in was soft and inviting. It made him want to do nothing more than to fall back asleep.

It was the first time in months that he had felt this rested, and it only made him feel guilty. While his friends were running and fighting for their lives and the fate of the world, Harry had been sleeping in luxury. He could only hope that they had gotten away in time.

Getting out bed, Harry put his feet on the cold floor and wondered who had the thought to take his shoes from him. He thought it was smart as it would deter him from trying to run away, but it certainly wasn’t going to stop him. Still, it would be helpful when he finally escapes.

He walked over to the door and tried to turn the knob. “Of course,” he sighed when he found it locked. Next, he walked over to the window and looked down. He was at least four floors above ground and the window would not budge when he tried to open it. He even tried to break it open by throwing a chair at it, but it did not even yield a scratch when he tried.

“Fuck,” He cursed as the threw the chair across the room in his anger. There was no escape, and he just knew that Voldemort was in possession on his wand. Magic couldn’t even help him out of this one.

His scar started tingling and the door behind him opened. Voldemort walked into the room and found Harry sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the edge of the bed. When he saw the destruction of the room due to Harry’s attempt to escape he rolled his eyes and asked “Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” Harry replied emotionlessly and pulled his knee up to his chest.

“You don’t seem afraid. Had a change of heart?” Voldemort mused as he shut the door behind him, locking it once again.

“I’m going to die either way, what does it matter?” Harry snapped and looked towards the locked window.

“I told you, I’m not going to kill you, Harry.” Voldemort moved to stand in front of Harry and his height made him appear to tower over him. “Are you that desperate to end your life?” Harry didn’t answer and that only made Voldemort irritated with him. “Should I be worried about you, Harry? You are worth far more to me alive than dead, and if I think you would kill your self the second I turned my back...we'll let’s just say there are unpleasant ways to keep you from harming yourself.”

Harry still did not look at the Dark Lord, so with a wave of his hand Voldemort lifted Harry up off the ground so he was floating at eye level with him. Harry’s head was forced to face him against his will. “How would you like to live without arms or legs? Or perhaps you would like to be turned into nothing more than a motionless doll? I could keep you awake the entire time and let you see up and personal just how Bellatrix likes to play with her toys.”

Before Harry had a chance to answer, a knock sounded at the door and Voldemort twitched his fingers so that it would open. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange walked in and shut the door behind them. Rodolphus bowed low, but Bellatrix only glared at Harry once she saw how close he was to her Master.

“My Lord,” Rodolphus began. “We have lost the mudblood and the blood traitor in the Albanian Forest. We have snatchers and several werewolfs searching for them, but they lost their trail some time ago.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin. “That’s too bad.”

“Let me cut out his tongue master. The boy needs to learn respect!” Bellatrix growled, her eyes glaring into Harry’s. She approached Harry’s floating form and Harry was immediately moved behind the Dark Lord.

“Bella…” Voldemort said in warning his protective stance in front of Harry left no room for argument.

Immediately, Bellatrix backed away and bowed low. “My apologies my lord,” she mumbled.

Harry raised his eyebrow at the action. For a man who was just threatening to leave him with the woman, he was certainly overprotective of him against her. “She likes to play with her toys, huh?” Harry mumbled so that only Voldemort could hear.

“I don’t want anyone to sleep until those two are dead. Tell those worthless snatchers, that if they do happen to kill them they will be greatly rewarded.” Voldemort ordered.

“No!” Harry shouted in horror. “No don’t hurt them!”

“You should have found out where your little friends were headed. I wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures.” Voldemort told Harry with a grin.

The Lestranges bowed and left the room leaving Harry and Voldemort alone. With a wave of the Dark Lord’s hand, Harry was dropped to the floor, his feet once again touching the cold floor.

“I think you could use some fresh air.” Voldemort opened the door and started making his way out. “Or you can stay in here. It’s your choice.” Not wanting to stay locked up, Harry got to his feet and followed the Dark Lord out of the room and fell into step behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written while playing d&d and drinking an unholy amount of tequila


	18. Day Eighteen, Holding Hands

Harry followed the Dark Lord through the manor. At first, he thought he was going to take him to some sort of dungeon or torture chamber to intimidate him into helping him find his friends. Neither of them said anything while they walked through the halls and it only unnerved Harry. Their destination surprised him.

It was the gardens and they were so beautiful it took Harry’s breath away. The high stone fences where covered in intricate vines and blooming flowers of all shapes and colors. The grass felt soft beneath his feet almost like silk. A large fountain flowed in the middle and fed into the stream that ran around it. The garden looked like an organized chaos that Harry couldn’t even being to understand.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Lady Malfoy works tirelessly on in. I believe she hides herself in here when there are meetings. Sometimes, I do not blame her,” Voldemort told Harry casually.

“It’s amazing,” Harry replied truthfully. “But why did you bring me here?”

“Would you rather I took you to the dungeons?” Voldemort smiled knowingly. “I’m sure we can find something for you to do down there.”

“No,” Harry said quickly. “This is perfect.” He moved towards the fountain and looked inside it to large glowing fish swimming inside. Sitting on the edge Harry ran his fingers over the top of the water, causing ripples to move against the force of the fountain. Once his fingers touched the water, all the glowing fish scattered away.

Voldemort watched Harry for a moment, observing how he played with the fish. Maybe next time he brought him here, he should give Harry something to feed them with. “I must confess, I do not know what to do.” Voldemort started. “In your dreams, there was always a goal. But now…”

“Always?” Harry questioned. “Even when you were pretending to be someone who you said you are not?”

“The goal was to get to understand my enemy. With your defenses down, there wouldn’t be a better opportunity.” Voldemort walked over to the fountain and stood next to Harry. “Nothing more.”

“Uh hu,” Harry rolled his eyes, not believing the man next to him. “Do you always kiss your enemies after you get to know them or am I a special case?”

“Are you jealous?” Voldemort challenged. His eyes not once leaving Harry’s form.

“As if.” Harry snorted. “It’s not like I can stop the Dark Lord from kissing whoever he wants.”

“Of course you can’t.” Voldemort said certainly, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow at him. He sat down next to Harry on the edge of the fountain, and placed his hands on the cool stone. “There isn’t anything you could stop me from doing if I wanted to anyway.”

“Oh, did you think I meant you ‘the Dark Lord’? I was talking about Grindelwald. He is way too powerful for me. I might just cower in fear the second I lay eyes on him,” Harry said in mock seriousness. “Why if he were here right now, I might just fall on my knees right then and there.”

“You think your funny, don’t you?” Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him.

“Of course I do. See, you don’t know everything about me. Guess your little plan didn’t work now did it?” Harry smiled. “Guess you’ll have to try again.”

“Maybe I should.” Voldemort looked away and towards the blue and white flowers that where spread along the ground. “You are speaking so calmly for someone who just heard that their friends where going to be killed on site.”

“I have faith in them. They are stronger than you give them credit for. Besides, we have outrun you for this long. The only reason we got caught is because of me, and I’m no longer with them. You’re going to have to try harder. No cheating this time.” Harry smirked.

“Perhaps.” Voldemort replied softly. “Still, I have you with me now. I don’t have to spend every evening in your mind just to talk to you.”

Harry looked surprised at his words and looked away, embarrassed. “Are you that desperate for a normal conversation you could only get it while your worst enemy is asleep?” Voldemort did not answer, but that seemed enough of one for Harry. Without looking at him, Harry placed his hand on top of his. Once again, he felt nothing but pity for the man next to him. “I won’t tell anyone.” He promised.


	19. Day Nineteen, Spellbound

Harry didn’t leave the room often, but when he did it was always with the Dark Lord. For a while he thought they were the only two at the manor until he realized just who the home belonged to and that the Malfoys would never abandon their home even for a Dark Lord. They had far too much pride for that.

He still wasn’t sure what Voldemort wanted with him there. Some days, Voldemort would ask him questions about his friends which he would avoid, and other days he would just talk to Harry about unimportant matters.

When Harry complained about being bored in their room, Voldemort brought him books to read which he ignored. He couldn’t help but call it _their_ room because it had some distinct items of Voldemort’s that he kept in there like his paperwork that was in a language that Harry couldn’t read, and the remains of his old Diary.

One thing that Harry found odd, was that Voldemort never seemed to sleep. He was so sure that this at least _used_ to be Voldemort’s room, so why was it that he never slept in it? At first, Harry was grateful, he didn’t want to awkwardness of sleeping next to the Dark Lord. But then, he realized that Voldemort probably didn’t trust him enough to put himself in a vulnerable position like that.

How could he get him to open up, then? Time and time again, no matter what Voldemort claimed, there was still traces of humanity left inside him. All Harry had to do was bring it out again and he might have a chance to escape.

Not once where the doors or windows left unlocked or unwarded. Voldemort was always careful to put them back the second he left the room. “I already you. I don’t trust you not to wander away.” Voldemort once said with a grin.

Still, Harry had to try. He waited until Voldemort once again visited him in their room. A house elf had brought them dinner that Voldemort did not touch. Harry sat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace while Voldemort sat in the other, reading the Daily Prophet.

“You know, Dumbledore says that the reason why you went dark is because you are incapable of feeling love.” Harry started conversationally.

“And?” Voldemort replied emotionlessly while not looking up from his paper.

“And…I thought you might have something to say about that.” Harry shrugged while taking a sip of his tea.

“I don’t care what the old man thinks of me. He is dead. His thoughts don’t matter anymore.” Voldemort said with finality.

Harry flinched at the words. “Sorry. I’m just bored and it was the only thing I could come up with. There are only so many walks to the garden I can take before they all seem to blur together. You try only seeing two rooms for weeks at a time and have only one person to talk to who won’t tell you anything important, and see what kind of conversations you come up with.”

Voldemort put the paper down on his lap and looked at Harry. “Fine. I think it is ridiculous. Love is nothing more than a weakness-”

“It beat you didn’t it?” Harry interrupted.

“- and it is a waste of time. You think I would spend my time on something as useless as _love?”_

“Then why am I still alive?” Harry pointed out. “I’m of no use to you. I can’t tell you where my friends are, and when I get out I’ll go right back to hunting your horcruxes. If anything, I am a burden to you, so why am I still here?” He crossed his arms in a challenge.

Voldemort smiled and suddenly he was leaning over Harry in his chair. One hand was on the back while the other was caressing Harry’s face. “You are clever, Harry. Why don’t you tell me?” His lips pressed against Harry’s scar and suddenly Harry felt as if he were floating in air.

It was like all the troubles of the world had washed away and he was wrapped in a warm cocoon safe from the outside horrors. His mouth fell open in a small gasp and he unknowingly leaned into the touch. He was complete after _so long_. His other half had found him and he would never have to be alone again.

Just as quickly as it started, it was over and Voldemort sat back into his chair and picked up his paper once again. Harry had to blink several times to get the warm feeling out of his mind and remember where he was.

“I think that should help you figure it out.” Voldemort smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't drink and cold medicine at the same time.


	20. Day Twenty, Surprise Gift

He knew. Voldemort knew all along. That’s why he had become so obsessed with finding him, and why he was reluctant to hurt him. All he said was he had wanted to find “ _my soul_ ” and Harry just understood that to mean the locket. But the answer was in front of him the entire time, Harry was just to clueless to see the truth.

Harry refused to speak to Voldemort for the rest of the night, and the next three after that. He had thought for one moment that Voldemort might have had some kindness in him. But all he was thinking about was himself. Whenever he looks at him, he isn’t seeing _Harry._ He is seeing his _soul._ Somehow, it hurt more than it should.

Voldemort pretended not to care. He just sat in his chair and offered to take Harry to the gardens again, but when he received no answer he just shut and locked the door behind him. “You can sulk in here all you want. It’s not going to change anything.” Voldemort had told him.

It wasn’t until Harry started refusing to eat did Voldemort act. “You are being childish.” Voldemort scolded. “What good is starving yourself going to do?”

Harry still didn’t answer. Their room felt suffocating to him. There was nowhere to go that Voldemort wouldn’t be right next to him. Nothing but a _prize._ They sat once again in front of the fire, Harry’s knees up to his chest and Voldemort simply looking at him.

“Harry, you need to eat something.” Voldemort tried.

“Why?” Harry spat. “What good would it do?”

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow. “Well for one, it will stop your irritating mood. Two, you need food to live. This noble act of sacrifice won’t get rid of my soul inside you. You need something more powerful that starvation to kill you. All you setting yourself up for is an unpleasant experience.”

Reluctantly, Harry took a grape off the plate in front of him an ate it. “Happy?”

“Not until you are finished,” Voldemort rolled his eyes. “Did you really think I would just allow you to kill yourself so easily? I know how _noble_ you can be.”

Harry only glared at him in response as he continued to eat his dinner. He ate slowly at first, and then more quickly once he finally noticed how hungry he was. When he was finished, he didn’t feel like he had accomplished anything at all.

“Do you feel better, now?” Voldemort asked.

“No,” Harry replied honestly. He got up and moved over to the bed and sat down on the edge so that his back was facing Voldemort. “You did your job. Your precious soul lives on another day. You can leave now.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Voldemort stood up and turned so he could see Harry’s form.

“Does it really matter what I want?” Harry mumbled.

Voldemort moved so that he was standing in front of Harry. Placing his hand on his shoulder, he moved him so that he could see his face. Unexpected tears fell from Harry’s eyes and Voldemort found himself carefully touching his scar instead of wiping them away. “You really only care about my stupid scar, don’t you?” Harry whispered.

As a response, Voldemort sat down next to Harry and put his arm around him. He didn’t say anything, but Harry felt like he didn’t need to. In truth, Voldemort did not know the answer. Knowing that he would get no better source of human comfort, Harry placed his head on the Dark Lord’s shoulder and cried.


	21. Day Twenty-one, Dispute

“I want to go somewhere else.” Harry demanded. His arms were crossed as though he was already prepared for a fight. “Somewhere other than  _ here. _ I’m sick of this place.”

Voldemort rolled his eyes. “I cannot do that. You are  _ safe _ here. I cannot guarantee your safety if I take you out of these wards. My followers get rather jealous of the people I choose to spend the most time with. You saw how Bellatrix reacted towards your presence.” 

To Harry, his constant surroundings were becoming suffocating. He knew that Voldemort did not want him out of his sight, but why did that mean he had to stay here? “Are you suddenly  _ not _ the most powerful wizard in existence,” Harry accused. “I think you can handle a few hours with me out in the real world.” 

“This discussion is over,” Voldemort sneered. 

“You can’t lock me away like your other little trinkets. I’m not like the locket or your diary. I’m a  _ person _ , I can’t stay locked away forever!” Harry argued. “I wonder if the other pieces of your soul were able to retain their sanity after being locked away for so long. The diary seemed a little off to me. Maybe it’s just you, or maybe he was so desperate for a change in scenery, he was willing to spend every day in the pocket of a little girl.” 

The breath was knocked out of Harry when Voldemort slammed him against the wall. As he was gasping for air, Voldemort threatened in his ear “I don’t  _ need _ your sanity to keep my soul alive. If you don’t stop your childish whining, I will lock you in a cellar without company or sunlight and leave you there for the next century.”

Harry could only look at Voldemort with sympathy as he was dropped to the floor. 

“Have you forgotten who I am?” Voldemort spat. 

“No, I think you are just scared.” Harry choked out. “You can’t protect me from your followers, and you can’t control them. How powerful do you really think you are?” He rubbed at his shoulder where Voldemort grabbed him. “No one has to know. There are places where they wouldn’t dare to follow you.” 

“No, Harry.” Voldemort said with finality. 

“Just you and me. You can tie me up if you are worried about me getting away. I just… I don’t want to be here anymore.” Harry looked away, there was nowhere in the room that would be far enough away from the man in front of him.

Voldemort watched Harry, his previous irritation quickly vanishing. It wouldn’t do for him to mistreat Harry now. He has proven that given the opportunity, he was more than willing to kill himself. It would be more difficult to take care of a motionless body rather than have Harry take care of himself, willing to live on. 

But deep down, he knew that there was another reason he was about to say yes, but he didn’t want to admit it. Those kinds of thoughts have proven to be nothing more than a weakness time and time again. 

“You will  _ not _ leave my side the entire time, do you understand? If you even think about running away, and believe me I will know, I will make on my promise to lock you in a cellar. Is that clear?” Voldemort told him.

Harry didn’t answer at first, to stunned at what he was hearing to move. When he did, he nodded eagerly, and stood up. “Really? Thank you,” he smiled. 

Voldemort couldn’t bring himself to look at the joy on Harry’s face. It only brought strange feelings to his chest. “We will leave tomorrow, get some rest.” Voldemort told him as he left the room. What the hell was the boy doing to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. I ended up getting WAY sicker than I thought and I was a practical drugged up zombie for the next week. Also, its test season so that is taking up like 90% of my time. 
> 
> But... smut in the next chapter or...


	22. Day Twenty-Two, Angst

Harry did not think water could ever be this loud. The waterfall looked like it touched the sky form where he was standing and when it hit it the river below, it created a vapor cloud so large that the first several yards hid everything around it. He imagined that if he got anywhere near it, he might become lost get lost under the crushing weight of the water.

The forest around them held trees that glowed blue in the moonlight, even the creatures around them lit up once they came closer to the water.

“This place doesn’t get a lot of human visitors. The fairies that maintain this place keep them out, or drag them into the waterfall if they get to close.” Voldemort explained. “There is magic in this place as old as the earth itself.”

“It’s beautiful,” Harry said breathlessly. “But I thought you didn’t want me in any danger? Fairies that want to kill us if they find us sounds dangerous.”

“What are my goals, Harry?” Voldemort asked. “I want to get rid of the very humans that are destroying the land, and making it impossible for any life to return. If the muggles get _here?_ What do you think they would do? Magical life is getting smaller and smaller every day, and they are the cause of it. The creatures here did not need any persuasion to get on my side. They will not hurt me.”

Harry looked at Voldemort in surprise. He had no idea the damage that the muggle world caused. It made him all the more upset that magical creatures were quick to fight alongside a Dark Lord to be rid of them. “But muggles don’t even know what they are destroying.” Harry tried to argue. “If they knew of the magical world-”

“Have you seen what they have done to the rainforest? It is filled with all sorts of life, thousands of undiscovered creatures and plants go extinct every year because they take more and more from it. They know what they do, and yet they don’t care. If they did know of the magical world, places like this would be the first to go.” Voldemort placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder as they looked out into the impossible beauty of the water. “I didn’t become a Dark Lord just to spread murder and mayhem. I’ve always wanted to save the magical community from its inevitable destruction by their kind.”

“But there has to be another way. Muggles don’t have to be tortured and killed because of the actions of a few.” Harry faced Voldemort, a look of worry clear on his face.

“Why not? They all benefit from their actions. They would not hesitate to treat us the same way should they get the chance. In the past, they have _proven_ that they will hunt down our kind.” Voldemort moved his hand to caress Harry’s face. “I am only doing what is best.”

“But that was the past, they are different now. If we could just-”

“Harry I did not bring you out here to talk about the war. You wanted to momentarily escape the manor, and I have given you that. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Voldemort interrupted. “Do not make this rare occasion into an upsetting one.”

Harry looked like he wanted to argue some more, but instead he just bowed his head and replied “You are right, thank you. It is beautiful here.” He turned and walked away from Voldemort and towards one of the half glowing trees near him. His hand reached up to feel one of the blue leaves and it felt cold to the touch. Harry couldn’t help but feel once again amazed by what the magical world had to show him.

Still, he couldn’t be here for long. Whenever he wanted, Voldemort could take him away from this place and back within the confining walls of the manor. Although he was grateful for at least having Voldemort’s company, he had not seen another person in weeks. He was starting to crave more human interaction that just the afternoon conversations that Voldemort gave him.

“Am I not enough for you?” Voldemort asked, sensing Harry’s thoughts. “I rather enjoy our talks.”

“Yes, but you get to talk to other people throughout your day. You’re all I have, once a day, for only a little while. It gets...” Harry didn’t want to say what was on his mind. He didn’t want to risk making Voldemort upset and being taken back early. “It’s not enough.”

“Not enough? Do you wish me to come and see you more then?” Voldemort was suddenly behind Harry, trapping him between him and the tree.

Harry didn’t reply, not trusting himself to answer. What he _wanted_ was to be with his friends. He missed them with a fierceness that he couldn’t bear.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m not a good host.” The way Voldemort spoke made an excited chill run down Harry’s spine. He felt lips suddenly on his neck and Harry’s mind was brought back to his dreams where Voldemort tried to convince him to open his eyes. “I already have you, Harry. I do not need to convince you of anything, now do it?”

Harry didn’t know if it was his loneliness, or something else, but he sighed happily as hands brushed down his arms and spun him around so he was facing Voldemort and his back was against the tree. The light above them illuminated Voldemort’s face in a soft glow, his red eyes appearing less threatening in the blue light.

When they kissed, it was nothing like his dreams. The realness of it made it incomparable, he didn’t realize that he had been missing out.  Harry placed his hands on Voldemort’s back to bring him closer, and a leg slipped in-between his. Their chests pressed together and he could feel Voldemort’s heart beat opposite of his.

His scar felt like it was on fire, but not with pain. It was a new sensation, and Harry could tell that the soul piece inside of him was excited with their actions, it even seemed like it was encouraging them.

Voldemort lifted up Harry’s shirt and pulled it over his head so that he could run his hands over Harry’s chest. The contact made Harry open his mouth in a gasp and Voldemort slipped his tongue inside. In return, Harry wrapped a leg around Voldemort’s waist and he was lifted up so his back pressed against the rough tree. He hissed in pain as his back scraped against it, but Voldemort did not seem to care, or he did not hear him.

Suddenly, Harry’s pants were gone, and he was left naked out in the open. The air against his more private areas might have made him uncomfortable, but with Voldemort pressed so tightly against him, he could not feel it. With one hand holding both Harry’s leg and his weight the other slipped in-between his legs and pressed against his entrance. With a whispered spell, Harry felt the finger that entered him become slick and wet with something.

With his back pressed against the tree, and the finger inside of him, Harry grunted out “Are you trying to make this hurt as much as possible?”

Voldemort smirked against his lips. “If you relax, it wouldn’t hurt as much. Be patient,” he replied, and slipped another finger inside. Harry felt nothing but pain at first, it made him throw his head back against the tree and claw against Voldemort’s back in attempt to fight against the sensation, but then, as Voldemort moved his fingers inside of him, the pain began to lesson in favor of something much more pleasurable.

Another finger once again brought more pain, but it left quickly this time. He breathed out a moan as the fingers were replaced with something else, and he tensed in anticipation. “Breathe,” Voldemort whispered.

Harry whined as his cock slowly thrust into him. His hands reached up to grasp the tree as Voldemort grabbed his other leg so that they were both wrapped around him. He paused only for a moment once he was completely inside of him, before he began to move.

It was slow and careful, Voldemort was careful to be gentle. But as soon as the pleasure returned to Harry and he was sighing with pleasure, he moved faster. “Did I really have to take you all the way out here to do this?” Voldemort said into Harry’s neck. “I could have tied you to the bed instead. But I suppose this provides us with quite the view, doesn’t it?”

Harry only moaned in response. The pain of his skin against the rough tree was ignored for the increasing pleasure that Voldemort was giving him. His mouth against his neck made him lilt his head to the side to give him more room, and bring his hands to Voldemort’s shoulders so he could hold onto him.

Harry finished first, he cried out and his legs squeezed tighter against Voldemort’s waist. Voldemort continued to thrust into him, overstimulating him with every thrust. He did not release him, until he finished as well, pushing him deeper into the tree.

When his feet finally touched the soft grass, Harry was sure that he could feel blood on his back from where the tree had dug into him. Although their relationship seemed completely different form that moment, the environment around them had no changed at all.

The unforgiving waterfall did not care that the Dark Lord had just fucked Harry Potter against a tree, nor did the creatures around them. It only made Harry even more upset when he was finally whisked away back to the manor, and back into the real world where if anyone _did_ find out, they might accuse him of becoming a traitor.

Harry felt guilty because he was happy that he was not with his friends. What would they say if they ever found out?


	23. Day Twenty-three, Rescue

Harry never realized just how valuable his life was to his friends. Growing up, his relatives made sure that he always felt unwanted. To them, he was nothing more than a burden on their perfect lives, and he should have been grateful that they even let him sleep inside the house instead of outside.

So, when he heard the commotion from outside the door, he didn’t think much of it. The Death Eaters often had little fights between them, so it didn’t seem unusual. But, when the door exploded into tiny little pieces and he saw a familiar head of red hair standing in the doorway, he felt his heart soar.

“Ron!” He shouted and threw himself at him. “What are you doing here? Are you crazy? If Voldemort comes back-”

“He won’t catch us if we hurry,” Hermione shouted from down the hall. “Come on! The Order can only hold them off for so long!”

Together, the three friends raced through the manor and fought off everyone and everything that tried to stop them. Harry could only hide behind his friends and throw objects within his reach as his wand was still in the pocket of Voldemort.

Harry could not feel any pain in his scar, but that only meant that Voldemort was not aware of what was going on just yet. The only pain he felt was from the deep scratches of the previous night on his back.

For a moment, Harry felt guilty for leaving Voldemort like this. He had been so kind to him while he was here, even going so far as to open up to him every now and again. Voldemort even promised to show Harry something special once he arrived later today. He was certain that it involved the blindfold and long silk scarf that he found inside the bedside table, but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“This way,” Hermione shouted and they threw open a set of doors into what looked like a grand dining room.

Inside was the one person Harry loathed with every fiber of his being. She stood with a knife in one hand, and a wand in the other, blocking their path. Harry thought that it was strange that there was no one else in the room but her. Maybe she thought that she could kill him, and then claim to her master that it was an accident to get him out of the way.

“Baby Potter is leaving so soon? My master was having such fun with you.” Bellatrix didn’t speak to him in her usual mocking tone. In fact, she was more furious than he had ever seen her before. “Have a good time?”

“Harry, get behind us,” Ron ordered. With no wand to help, Harry was forced to follow his friends orders.

“Just wait. See if you can’t stall her,” Hermione whispered as she placed her hand on Harry’s.

“My lord will be so upset you don’t want to stay with him. It’s a pity.” Her face twisted into something dark.

“Jealous?” Harry spat. “I’m sure if you tried hard enough, he might like you half as much as he likes me.” To anyone else, Hermione would have looked to have been calm and collected but Harry knew better. She was shocked at his choice of words but was unable to comment on them at the moment. Behind him, he could hear light, quiet footsteps and then a small hand touch his.

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione caught Bellatrix’s wand before it hit the ground. She looked at the other woman with mocking glee. “So sorry. I think this belongs in more capable hands. You might poke someone's eye out.”

Bellatrix waved the knife around in the air in rage. “You stupid, fucking mudblood. You shouldn’t touch a real witch’s wand. Give that back you little-”

“Don’t you talk to her like that,” Ron interrupted her. “She is ten times the witch you will ever be!” Ron’s love and admiration for Hermione never failed, and she looked at him with pride.

Harry did not dare look down, but he saw a pair of familiar ears move between him and Ron. Dobby still seemed very familiar with Malfoy manor even though he had not been there in quite some time. He looked up at Harry with a friendly smile on his face and a finger to his lips.

Just as Dobby reached out to grab Ron’s cloak, Bellatrix threw her only weapon at him. Harry could do nothing to stop it, as Dobby apparated them away to safety.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance.


	24. Day Twenty-Four, Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry

By the time they apparated to the beach, it was too late. Ron was already choking on his own blood, gasping for what air he could. The knife had hit him in the middle of his neck, the blood flowed out and onto his clothes faster than anyone of them could stop it. Hermione was on him in an instant and caught him as he fell.

“No, Ron, no. Please.. please.. “ Hermione sobbed and turned to Harry. “I don’t know any spells that can help. I don’t have anything… I can’t… I can’t..” Ron reached up to her to wipe her tears away. Instead, he smeared his own blood on her face. 

Ron could not speak, he could not tell her that he loved her one last time. When he tried to breath, more blood flowed out and splashed onto Hermione’s face. But he still smiled, despite the pain he was in. Hermione took Ron’s hand in hers and whispered. “I love you. I love you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The waves of the ocean hit her feet and carried away the blood that fell onto the sand.

Harry stood there in shock. He had not seen his friend in so long, and the moment they are reunited, he is taken away forever. As the last of Ron’s breath left him, Hermione took him in her arms and rocked him. Ron’s smile never faded even as Hermione closed his eyes. Her screams of agony tore through Harry like a knife to wet paper. He would have comforted her, but he felt like he would have been interrupting instead of helping. His own tears silently fell, reflecting his own anguish. 

“Dobby is sorry. Dobby should have been quicker,” the elf said quietly. “Dobby will go to the house and… Dobby will…” The elf apparated away and Harry could only assume it was to get help.

When they were alone, Harry kneeled down next to her and placed an arm around her shoulder. His friend, his best friend, had died saving him. How many more would end up the same just because Harry still lived. The soul inside him ensured that anyone around him, anyone he got close to would perish.

“Hermione…” Harry started softly. “I’m so.. I’m sorry.. I should have been-”

“Don’t you dare, Harry Potter! Don’t you dare! Ron risked everything to save you! Don’t make it to sound like some mistake because it wasn’t,” Hermione shrieked with fury. 

Harry looked away in shame. “I’m sorry.” 

“Stop  _ saying _ that,” Hermione spat her tears still falling onto her cheeks. The blood on her face, and her look of anger would have many anyone run away in fear. “We need to-”

Harry didn’t hear what else she had to say. His scar started  _ burning _ and he felt Voldemort’s anger like it was his own. Suddenly, he was in Voldemort’s head looking down at the decapitated body of Bellatrix Lestrange. 

“There you are. Harry,” Voldemort said aloud once he noticed Harry’s presence. “It seems you have been taken. Tell me where you are and I will come and get you.” He pushed back into Harry’s mind to find out his location, but recoiled once he felt the  _ pain _ he was in.

“Ah.. yes. The Weasley boy. He should never have taken you away from me and he might have lived,” Voldemort sneered. He looked like he was about to say something else, but Harry forced all of his pain and anguish back onto Voldemort.

The Dark Lord’s face twisted in pain and he had to grab ahold of the table to keep from falling over. “You know  _ nothing, _ ” Harry hissed into Voldemort’s mind. “What makes you think I would want to go back to you? You don’t  _ care _ . You don’t feel anything. You. are. a . monster.”  

Voldemort felt Harry’s pain, his hatred for him, and it made him want to cry out. “Harry… I will find you again. I you can’t hide from me forever. You know that.”

“I don’t have to hide from you forever. Just long enough to find the rest of your Horcruxes and destroy them. I’ll be dead long before you ever reach me,” Harry swore and with all of the strength that he could, he left Voldemort’s mind and blocked his own as best as he could. 

 


	25. Day Twenty-Five, Support

No one spoke for several days. Not even Dobby who had taken it upon himself to make sure that everyone in the house was well taken care of. He would cook them food, clean up their messes, and then vanish like he was never there in the first place.

Hermione had taken to holding herself up in her room. She did not answer when anyone knocked to check on her. The only reason they knew she was still alive in there, was because Harry could hear her softly crying every now and again. He wanted to go in there to comfort her, but he was in the same predicament. 

He didn’t like being cooped up in his room. It was like being trapped with Voldemort all over again. Instead, he walked along the beach, just on the edge of the wards. Harry did not know how long it had been since he was able to walk outside on his own. Still, it was like there was something missing. He has spent so long with Voldemort, he almost didn’t know what to do without him.

The fresh air of the beach was a comfort, but it was not enough to heal the hole that Ron’s death left in his chest. Harry, who had never even been to a beach before, could not enjoy it properly without his best friend by his side. Now, he was not sure if he would ever get the chance.

As he walked, he felt the sand and the water beneath his feet. The waves gently rolled in and out, a soothing sound compared to the whirlwind of emotions that were in his head. Voldemort was trying to communicate with him, but he could not stay in his head for very long. The  _ pain _ he felt from Harry’s grief was too much for him to bare. 

Harry almost wished that Voldemort was stronger. With the silence in the house, and Hermione refusing to come out of her room, Harry just wanted  _ someone _ there with him. The only person he could think of that would come running as soon as he called was Voldemort. He felt nothing but guilt for thinking such a thing, but the feeling remained all the same.

“You really are something you know?” Harry said to no one. He sat down in the sand, far enough so that he wouldn’t get wet, but close enough so that the water could still rush between his toes. “Even after wishing to be free of you, the first thing I want when I am out of your presence is to call you back.”

Harry sighed, and started drawing lines in the sand. “What am I going to do when you are gone for good?” The thought suddenly brought more pain to his chest. What  _ was _ he going to do? What was he without Voldemort?

He could still feel the sharp pain on his back from where it was pressed against the tree. When it happened, he didn’t care about the consequences. But now, it was a painful reminder of just how far he had fallen. 

A hand turned into a fist in the sand. He imagined that he was holding someone else’s hand rather than the warm sand. But of course it wasn’t the same. There was no one else there, and as far as Harry was concerned, there never would be again. He would never feel the comforting presence of his best friend ever again, and if he went back to Voldemort then he would be betraying his memory and sacrifice. 

“I’m so sorry, Ron.” He whispered out to the sea. “You shouldn’t have had to die for me. No one should have to die for me. Not after everything I've done.”

The only answer he received, was the same soothing sound of the ocean waves. “I won’t fail you again. I promise. I’ll kill him. I’ll save everyone. You’ll see.” The ache in his chest remained the same. Harry had a feeling that it would never disappear as long as he still felt the pain of longing to return to a certain Dark Lord. 

A silent soul in the back of his head alerted him to Voldemort’s presence. The feeling of gratefulness that  _ someone _ was finally there with him, was almost immediately replaced by grief and guilt as to who he was having those feelings towards. Voldemort fled as soon as he felt the change. 

“You’re so…. weak,” Harry spat when he was once again alone. “After all of this, you still can’t stand it can you? What are you going to do if I die before you?  _ When _ I die before you. I haven’t given up on destroying that soul piece inside of me after all.”

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, the sand sticking to his toes. “Would you feel more loss at your soul, or me?” 


	26. Day Twenty-Six, Finishing Each Other’s Sentences

When Hermione finally came out of her room, she looked like a piece of her soul had been ripped away. She walked down the stairs with dark circles under her eyes and the walk of a woman who had nothing left. At first, she said nothing, but Harry did not expect her to. 

Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and knew that she wished that they were Rons instead of his. She did not cry, nor did she return his hug. Her eyes closed, and she buried her head in the crook of his neck. 

Harry could see the water outside a window. The sun reflected against the sea and made it look like it was filled with beautiful crystals instead of the monsters that lurked in its depths. If they were going to win this war, then Harry was going to have to be strong enough for the both of them. 

“I know where another Horcrux is,” Harry started, his hands held still on her back. “There is one at Hogwarts and other-”

“Is at Gringotts. R-Ron couldn’t wait to tell you that story…. We broke into Gringotts.” Harry could feel a small twitch of her lips against his neck. “He had to carry a goblin on his back.”

“He did what,” Harry let out a small laugh. Soon, she was retelling the story of their daring escape through Gringotts bank, and the dragon that they set free with cups of tea in their hands. The fireplace was lit, and the warmth it gave off comforted them both. 

“I bet Charlie was proud of that,” Harry smiled and held the cup in his hands to soak up the warmth that it gave. 

“Oh he was. But he was also furious that we just let it go. That dragon… it wasn’t right. They hurt them, Harry. The dragon was blind, it had scars all over it’s body, and it was terrified of these little noise maker things that the goblin used. Charlie wanted to help it recover. But I guess he just has to settle with tracking it down first. Can you imagine? Living like that? A creature that is meant to live in the skies and kept trapped and tortured underground?” The soft smile that she had fell away as she realized just what she had said.

“Oh Harry,.. I’m sorry it took us so long. Fleur said she saw scratches on your back, and… He didn’t hurt you much did he?” Hermione’s gaze was filled with nothing but sadness. 

Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks at the memory of just where he got them from, and hoped she did not notice his embarrassment. “No, He didn’t hurt me much. He kept me locked away for the most part. I didn’t see anyone else but him, once Bellatrix made a move to attack me. Voldemort didn’t want anyone else touching me but him.” Harry did not want to give her any details in case she realized what they had done together. He felt guilty letting her think that he had been tortured, but the alternative might have her hate him forever. 

“I’ll be fine,” He comforted her once he saw the horrified look on her face. “We have more important things to worry about.”

“But… nothing but him. No one else to talk to all this time? Harry-”

“I’ll be  _ fine, _ ” He insisted. “We need to worry about getting to Hogwarts first. It’s there, and then we can worry about getting to Nagini. She is the last one.”  _ I’m the last one. _ “Once she is gone, it will be over.”  _ Once I am gone… _

“Okay.” She nodded. “They have the entire place surrounded with death eaters, and wards that will go off as soon as we step foot anywhere near it.” 

“That will be fine. As long as he isn’t there it won’t be a problem. We can find some allies to sneak us in if only for a few hours.” Harry placed his cup on the table as he felt the tingling in his scar announce another presence in his head.  

“ _ Where are you, Harry?” _

A finger to his lips, had Hermione looking at him with confusion, but once he pointed to his scar, her face turned white with fear. 

“Harry you have to block him out,” She urged, dropping her cup onto the table. 

“It’s not that simple, anymore. Our connection it’s…”

“ _ Stronger now that we’ve shared so much of ourselves with one another. Our thoughts… our minds… I wouldn’t mind sharing your body again either. Just tell me where you are.” _

“It’s stronger. I can’t shut him out anymore,” Harry hid his head in his hands. To her, she must have thought that he was in pain, but in reality he did not want her to see the shame written all over his face. 

“What are we going to do?” Hermione stood up, and kicked the chair she was sitting in. 

“He can’t keep it up forever. Just… we have to do this the old fashioned way. No plan. They all blow up in our faces anyway. We can just wing it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good plan,” Hermione huffed.

“Well if you can think of another one, don’t tell me right now.” Harry took his hands away from his hands, but closed his eyes. 

“ _ That’s not very nice Harry, and here I was about to tell you all of the things I would do to you once I had you back.”  _ There was a sensation like the ghost of a hand running up his leg. 

“ _ If you don’t leave now, I will tell everyone I can exactly what I am. Hermione might not be able to kill me, but there are people out there who will.”  _ Harry threatened. “ _ And they won’t think twice if it means taking you down once and for all.” _

Suddenly, Harry felt pain in his scar that made him cry out. He thought his head was going to split in two for a brief moment, before Voldemort’s presence left him entirely and he was left panting and leaning against the table. His arm was wet from where he knocked over his cup. Hermione was already waving her wand to clean it up.

“We won’t have much time,” Harry told her, wiping his arm on his pants. He felt guilty for threatening him, but he did not have the ability to open his heart towards the Dark Lord again. He had a job to do, and he needed to be sure that they were under no illusions on what they were supposed to be. 

“So… wing it then,” Hermione sighed. 

Harry nodded, and stood up from the table. “I’ve bought us a little time, but we need to hurry.” He was about to turn to leave the room, but Hermione’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Wait.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a familiar wand that made Harry’s heart ache once more. “You don’t have one so….”

Harry held Ron’s wand in his hand with a new determination. “We’ll get him Hermione. Don’t worry. Ron’s sacrifice won’t be in vain. You’ll see.”

Harry hoped that Hermione would be able to take the loss of him as well. Harry didn’t know if he would he thankful, or regretful to see her there in the afterlife with him.


	27. Day Twenty-Seven, Memories

Harry only had a moment to feel his heart soar at the familiar sight. Sure, it was a little worse for wear. The town itself looked like no one had visited it in weeks. Cobwebs were frozen on the walls like they were made out of ice, and dust had gathered along with snow on the window panes. 

On the horizon, they could clearly see Hogwarts. There were lights still on in the window, and both he and Hermione felt like they were finally  _ home _ after months of being on the run. It’s lights shone through the night and brought a smile to Harry’s face. 

Before he could properly enjoy the view, a loud siren went off that sounded like a banshee. Hermione quickly covered her ears, and closed her eyes from the pain it caused, but Harry quickly took out his invisibility cloak and covered them both. 

Death Eaters apparated onto the street, and began screaming to each other. “Find him! Find him! The Dark Lord will have our heads if we let him escape!” It was only a matter of time before one of them would step a little too close to them and find their footprints in the snow. 

Harry took out his wand, ready for a fight, but a hand on his arm made him turn around. He was about to begin cursing the stranger, but once he got a look into their eyes, he froze. His mind screamed Dumbledore, but his heart filled with grief reminding him of the truth. 

“What the hell are you doing here, you stupid... quick, get inside before they catch you,” Aberforth Dumbledore held the back door to the Hogs Head open and let them slip inside.

The inside brought back a memory of the three friends standing together, signing up those would wished to join what would be known as Dumbledore’s Army. Harry gave a sad smile to the room, before Aberforth told them, “Go back into the kitchen and, and stay quiet or you will get us all killed.” 

Loud banging was heard at the front door, along with more shouting. “Open up, you crazy old man!”

“You shouldn't have come here. You will get yourself killed. You will get all of us killed.” Aberforth glared as he slammed the kitchen door behind them. Then, he shouted towards the front door. “I AM COMING YOU GREAT MORONS. GIVE ME A MOMENT.”

Hermione leaned against the counter while they waited. Harry eyed a bowl of muffins on the table. A part of him knew that he had the stomach to eat anything in a few days and probably should have taken one now that he had an opportunity. But, his stomach protested at the thought of food, and he had to look away to get it to stop.

“He is right you know. It is stupid of us to be here,” Hermione said quietly. 

“I know,” Harry nodded.

“They will kill us if they catch us,” She added. 

“I know,” Harry nodded again. 

Hermione stayed silent for a moment, staring at the door that Aberforth had left through. She looked tired and empty. Harry was certain that it would be a permanent look for her from now on, just as her hair would always be curly and she would always be the brightest witch of her age. 

“Do you miss him,” Hermione asked, surprising Harry. 

“Of course I do. I always will,” Harry told her with honesty, thinking she was talking of Ron. “He is...was my best friend.”

Hermione looked pained at his words, and shook her head. “No, I mean  _ him.  _ You were together for so long, I can’t help but think-”

“That I became attached?” Harry finished for her, walking to stand next to her, leaning on the counter the same as she was. 

She only nodded as an answer, but did not look up to meet his eyes. 

“I would be lying if I said no. He was the only person I saw for so long, that…” Harry shook his head, and Hermione was not able to see the pained expression on his face. “Well it’s hard to not get attached to someone who took care of you for so long.”

“You could have stockholm syndrome. We can see someone when this is over, and get you help, Harry. You’ve been through so much,” Hermione turned to him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“What about you? Who is going to take care of you?” Harry smiled at her, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “You need help too. Promise me that when this is over, that you will get help.”

“Harry, you need help more than me. There are so many other who need more than me. I will be fine,” she said with determination.

“Promise me,” Harry repeated with more force. “How can you help anyone if you can’t even help yourself?” He placed his own hands on Hermione’s shoulders, and looked into her eyes to try and show her how much he meant his words. “Do you think Ron would want you to work yourself to death? He would call you an idiot if you think you can do this all alone. We will kill Voldemort, and then you will go on a long vacation somewhere with your parent. You will go get some damn therapy because after everything we have been through it’s amazing we have survived this long, and then you will go out and conquer the wizarding world Hermione style because I know you would never settle for less.”

“What about you?” Tears had been falling onto her cheeks and she had yet to wipe them away. “What will you do?”

“I’ll go somewhere quiet. I think I’ve had enough adventure for one lifetime. You can come visit me if you want. Bring your whole family and tell them how much of a stupid hero complex I have,” He smiled at her. “You can tell them all about our adventures together.”

Hermione smiled a tear filled smile at him, “Okay, I think I can do that.”

Just then, Aberforth walked back into the room with his eyebrows raised. “You two should have put a sock on the door or something.”

Embarrassed, Hermione pulled back and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly in return. “Sorry, we were just talking,” He explained. 

“Right,” Aberforth rolled his eyes. “Now, why don’t you two idiots tell me why you decided to come all the way here?”


End file.
